The Blitz
by nottheherb
Summary: AU. Circa 1939, 17-year-old Kurt Hummel is evacuated to the English countryside to escape WWII London Blitz. Though at first frightened, with the help of new friends, Kurt becomes accustomed to living in the grand home of the Andersons rather quickly.
1. It's Really For The Best

**Hello readers! **

**Well, this is my second attempt at a chapter fic. If the summary didn't tell you enough, this story is mostly centering around Kurt, who had been sent to live in the English countryside, as most children under 18 were during the WWII Blitz. What's the Blitz? Think of "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe," when the Pevensies were sent to live with the professor. That was to escape the London Blitz. If you want to know more, look it up, I guess. Wikipedia has a good page for this. **

**Also, for the fact that this takes place around 1939, some of the facts _might_ not be completely correct. If they don't sound British enough, that's mainly for the reason that I am _not_ British myself, and am just using slang I looked up/heard in movies. I'm sure you could find any translations/explanations on Google.**

****As always, I do not own Glee or any of the characters. ****

**One last thing: The idea for this fic came to me when we were learning about WWII in school, and I was visualizing how life might be for people in that time. I really hope this fic portrays the lives of people back then appropriately, and I am truly sorry if it offends anyone in any way whatsoever. **

**With that said, I really hope you enjoy this fic! And please review, if possible! They really do feed a writer's inspiration! **

* * *

><p>"...And have you your snowboots, in case it gets cold?"<p>

Kurt Hummel sighed. "_Yes_ mum, but why do I need them? It's barely September!"

"Yes, but we don't know how long this will last," Rose Elizabeth Hummel said somberly, reaching a hand up to grace her son's cheek.

Kurt nodded at how true this was, clutching his ticket firmly in his fingers. Britain had just declared war on Nazi Germany. This meant many changes were going to happen for the English.

Kurt's father, Burton James Hummel, had been drafted into the Royal Air Force as a mechanic. They were always looking for good ones. Kurt was thankful for the thought that his dad was most likely working on planes, rather than marching with a gun on the battlefield.

Ever since the draft, Kurt had spent his nights alone with his mother, sipping tea or sewing some pretty little thing. Besides the occasional air raids, they had eventually gotten acquired to their new lifestyle-

...And now Kurt, age 17, was going to be shipped off to live with some stranger in the countryside.

Alone.

'_It's really for the best, dear_,' his mother had been saying. '_We need to keep your generation safe, as far away from the war as possible_.'

Kurt had begged for countless hours on end for his mother to come too. The thought of her being home, hiding from the air raids all by herself, sounded so sad.

Of course, she couldn't come along.

And now, even though he was still standing next to his mother at the train station, Kurt could feel her slipping away. He glanced down grudgingly at the tag that had been pinned to his lapel.

_Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, 17, London_

So that's what this was? He was just going to be shipped off like a package?

"Mum, I can't go," Kurt said, his voice breaking at the sting of the tears swelling up in his eyes.

Rose almost thought she'd misheard her son, over the sounds of the crowded station. "...What? No, Kurt-"

"No, please, let me stay with you, I'll take care of you, I'll protect you! I'll be fine, I ju-"

Kurt was interrupted by his mother's finger pressing against his lips, willing him to shush.

"Kurt my darling," Rose said, her voice almost breaking the same way Kurt's had. "Listen to me."

Kurt raised his head up to look down at his mother, sniffling a little.

"Kurt, I know this is hard," she said, lowering her voice just slightly. "War is hard. It's meant to break people, tear them into pieces."

Rose clutched Kurt's right hand in her left, letting her free arm wrap up around his neck, rubbing his back calmingly. Kurt let his eyes fall closed and his breath steadyied at the touch.

"You need to promise me that you won't let them break you. You have to stay strong. For me, for your father, for all of London." She pulled Kurt's face even closer to hers, whispering. "I know you want to help out, and that makes me so proud. But the best thing you can do right now is to get away. _Be brave, Kurt._"

Kurt hesitantly opened his eyes to look down at his mother. She was beautiful, young and wise. They had the same fair skin and bright blue eyes, and her wavy golden-brown hair fell down her back when it wasn't in its usual bun. The thought of Kurt's mother, this true beauty to the world, being alone and unprotected made Kurt's heart clench.

But no, he had to be brave. For his mother. For his father. For all of London.

Kurt let a small smile tickle his lips. "Alright, mum. I will. I'll be brave."

His mother smiled sadly and pulled him in for a hug. Kurt nuzzled his face into her scratchy wool sweater, breathing in her scent.

The sharp whistle of a train broke them apart. Kurt was at a loss for words, just staring down at his leather boots. Rose cupped his chin with her hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "Have courage, right?"

Kurt smiled again, nodding at the ground. "Yeah. Of course, mum."

Rose gave a motherly sigh. "You've grown up so well, Kurt. I love you."

"I love you too."

They smiled at each other once again before Kurt was being pushed towards the train with the crowd. In a flurry of motions, he was nudged in different directions, asked for his ticket, and asked for his name countless times. His mother had shouted blessings in his direction. But Kurt was numb, letting them poke and prod him this way and that. Within the browns and grays of the area, men clad in dress for war were lined up on the other side of the station, clutching guns and supplies in their tired arms.

Once he'd finally made it on the train, Kurt slid into an empty booth and set his luggage next to him on the seat. At first he didn't know where he was, or why he was there.

He absently brought his hand up to scratch behind his ear. He subconsciously breathed in the lingering scent of his mother's perfume on his sleeve-

And it hit him.

* * *

><p>Kurt opened his wet eyes to the sound of a knock on the door of his train booth. He watched as the door slid open to reveal a petite girl about his age with brown hair and eyes. She was dressed in a delicate gray-green coat and black hat.<p>

"Is, um...is this booth open?" She asked cautiously, noticing the sorry state of Kurt's eyes, nose, and trembling mouth. "All the other ones are full..."

Kurt sniffed, nodding his head. "Yeah, no, go ahead."

The girl gave a small smile, before scooting into the seat across from Kurt. They sat there for a moment in an awkward silence, before the girl decided to speak up.

"My name is Rachel. Rachel Berry," she said, holding out a hand for Kurt to shake. Despite the tears in his eyes, Kurt shook her hand slowly. "Kurt Hummel," he returned in a small voice.

There was another short silence before Rachel spoke up again, triggered by the boy's constant sniffling and hiccuping.

"Are you alright, Kurt?"

Kurt almost nodded, before reality got the best of him, making him break out into whimpers. Rachel gasped at this, taking the boy into her arms and hugging him tightly. She cooed and shushed, and Kurt didn't think he could be more grateful for her kindness.

"My...my mum...and my dad...and..." He tried to choke out.

"I know, I know," Rachel said. "But...it really is for the best. We'll be safe. Personally, I couldn't be happier."

Kurt, confusedly, lifted his head to look at the girl in front of him, taking in her worried eyes, her tight mouth, her nose-

Oh.

"Y-you're..."

Rachel stared at the ground. "Mhm. I know it might seem...selfish, but I'm very glad that I'm going to be safe from now on."

Kurt shook his head. "No...you're not selfish. What they're doing is wrong."

Rachel nodded, and Kurt immediately felt guilty.

"Have I seen you around London before?" He asked, trying to strike up conversation.

"My father's a tailor. I live..._lived_ in Finchley."

Kurt let a genuine smile grace his face. "I've met you before. We were ten, maybe eleven, and my mother ordered a dress from your father when we were in town."

Rachel looked up at Kurt. "Really?"

"Yes," Kurt smiled even wider. "It was a lovely thing, purple with a frilly lace."

Rachel smiled. "Yes. Yes, I remember. My father worked on that for weeks non-stop, saying it was for a beautiful lady."

Kurt nodded, and the two smiled at each other for a good while before a voice broke the silence.

"Um, hello?"

Rachel and Kurt looked up to see a tall, medium-built boy about their age at the door of the booth.

"Can...can we sit here?" He said, gesturing to himself and a slightly smaller blonde boy next to him. "We had seats, but the other chaps started crying..."

Rachel smiled, waving them in.

The tall, brown-haired boy sat next to Rachel, while the blonde boy sat next to Kurt. The whole booth was silent until the brown-haired boy reached his hand out at Kurt.

"I'm Finnegan Hudson, but they call me-"

"-Finn." Kurt interrupted. "I know who you are. You worked for my father two summers ago."

Finn looked confused before it dawned on him. "Right, you're Burt- uh, Mr. Hummel's son!"

Kurt nodded. "Kurt," he shook Finn's hand. "And this is Rachel," he gestured across to her.

Finn nodded, smiling shyly at a blushing Rachel.

"This is...Sam?" Finn attempted, pointing at the blonde boy, who nodded.

"Samuel Ray Evans," he said. "But you can call me Sam."

"Where are you from, Sam?" Rachel asked.

"Liverpool." Sam answered quietly.

"That's far away," Kurt said.

Sam just nodded, staring out the window.

The conversation mostly ended there, but it started up just as quickly. Everyone had their own stories to tell. Finn's father died when he was a baby, and was living with only his mom for as long as he could remember. He'd traveled around doing jobs to earn money for him and his mother, one of them helping Kurt's father in his repair shop. Leaving his mother was even more troubling than Kurt's situation, since now Finn's mother now had to provide for herself. But she knew it was best for him. Sam talked much less, but revealed that his family was poor. Kurt decided not to press on, and instead switch seats with Sam so he could stare out the window more easily. Throughout the conversations, Kurt found himself adjusting more and more, and smiling wider and wider.

"So," Rachel started after they'd consumed their lunch of the day. "Where are you guys staying?"

Finn looked confused before he noticed everyone checking their tags, and decided to do the same.

"Uh...Wood...bridge. Woodbridge? With...Dr. Anderson."

"Same as me," Sam piped up, before taking another bite of the sandwich Rachel had given him.

"And me as well," Rachel said, looking slightly confused.

"And me..." Kurt said, reading it over to make sure he was right.

"Can they do that?" Rachel asked. "I thought it was one family per house?"

Sam shrugged. "I suppose so."

"We _are _in a war, after all," Kurt muttered, tiredly rubbing his temple with his fingers.

* * *

><p>The train came to a jerking halt, stirring the boys from their attempt at a little sleep.<p>

"Kurt! Kurt, this is where we get off!" Rachel urged, shaking his shoulder.

Kurt rubbed his eyes as he noticed Finn and Sam stirring as well. He immediately got up and gathered his posessions, Sam doing the same. Finn, however, refused to wake.

"Finn! They're not going to wait forever!" Rachel insisted.

But Finn still didn't stir. Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled the cap off Finn's head, smacking him firmly over the head with it.

"Oi!" He screamed, getting up almost instantly. "Blimey!"

Rachel gave a smug smile before pulling him along, following Kurt and Sam down the length of the train and into the open air. Once the four were completely off, they watched as the train sped off, leaving them standing there in the field, clutching their bags with anticipation.

"Well, are you gonna stand and stare, or are we gonna get on with this?" Asked a distinguished voice with an Irish brogue.

The four whirled around to see a middle-aged woman smiling tightly at them, arms folded across her chest. Beside her was a carriage pulled by two stark-white horses.

Rachel glanced at her friends before stepping before the woman. "Doc...Doctor Anderson?"

The woman gave a hearty chuckle. "Well, that's where we're headed. No, I'm just the housekeeper. The name's Ruth Abbot."

Kurt smiled and stepped forward, shaking Ms. Abbot's hand and introducing himself. The others soon followed suit, and piled into the carriage before heading off down the path.

Kurt was completely in awe of the English countryside. He'd only traveled once before, to Oxford for his aunt's wedding. The greenery and lush, rolling hills were of such beauty, and the fresh air, clean of the smog that was often lurking around London, was sweet and clear. As Ms. Abbot continued with her lecture, all four of the evacuees were barely paying attention, instead taking in the bright colors of the country, and feeling at ease for that short while.

* * *

><p>"...And here we are!" Ms. Abbot called as the carraige came to a halt.<p>

The four perked their tired heads up to see the grounds before them. Among lush green grass, flowers, and an array of evergreen and willow trees, was an enormous brick house, with tall windows and white curtains. It had to be at least three stories tall, and at least twenty times larger than the small house Kurt's family occupied in London.

Twenty times lovelier, too.

"Alright, come on then!" Ms. Abbot exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You must be hungry, eh?"

The four broke out of their almost sure trance, and followed Ms. Abbot towards the front door, dragging their suitcases behind. She threw the front door open, and Kurt gasped at the sight before him.

Now, Kurt thought the outside of the mansion was gorgeous, but the inside...with white drapes, high ceilings, crystal chandelier, soft couches, paintings covering the walls...

"Oh, what perfect timing!" Ms. Abbot called. The others turned in her direction to see an African woman and what looked to be her daughter standing in the doorway to the kitchen, holding pies and smiling broadly.

"This," Ms. Abbot said, resting a hand on the shoulder of the mother, "is Agnes Jones. She's our cook and takes care of much of the housework. And this," she rested her free hand on the shoulder of the daughter, "is Agnes's daughter, Mercedes. She helps around, too."

Mercedes smiled broadly, holding the pie up to Kurt's face. "Hope you like cherry." Kurt breathed in the scent and let it linger in his sinuses.

"Welcome, children!"

Kurt and the others turned to see a medium-built gentleman standing before them on the staircase. His hair must have been dark once, but had gotten lighter with age. He had his arm around a small woman, whose years had evidently been very kind to her, what with her deep-brown locks and pure skin and lovely green-brown eyes.

"Harold, you can't call them children," the woman raised an amused eyebrow to her husband. "Look at how mature and polite they are!"

"Nonetheless, they're just as welcome," he smiled back, before walking towards the "children."

"I'm Dr. Harold Paul Anderson, man of the house," he smiled. "This is my wife, Evelyn Grace Anderson."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Rachel smiled boldly. "I'm Rachel Berry."

"I-I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel," Kurt returned timidly.

"I'm Finnegan...Hudson," Finn said, looking around the big house.

"I'm Sam Evans," Sam added, letting his eyes linger around the floor.

"Nice to meet you Rachel, Sam, Kurt and Finn! Then again, I suppose it's only customary, considering we'll all be living together." He took a step towards the group. "And let me say, I truly hope you enjoy your stay here. Most families are only taking in one family, but Eve and I thought we might as well offer up our services, considering our only residents are us, our staff, and our son."

"...Where_ is _that son of ours, anyway?" Eve questioned, looking down the hall.

"_I'm coming!_" Yelled a voice from upstairs.

"Hurry please, the guests are here!" Eve called.

"_Oh right, sorry mum!_"

"It's alright, just get down here!"

Kurt felt a little confused, when, after some stomping, a figure appeared at the foot of the stairs. In a light-blue button-up and black slacks, stood a boy of about 172 centimeters, with tamed, black curls. His skin was slightly tanned, and he had the same build as his father. And he had the most gorgeous green-brown eyes, just like his mother, and he had the most gorgeous smile...

Kurt could not believe his eyes. He didn't know what he was feeling, but he knew that he just could not take his eyes off the boy in front of him, as strange as that may seem.

Said boy approached Kurt, mouth gaping awkwardly. He quickly shook his head, and pasted a smile onto his face, offering his hand out for Kurt to shake.

"My name's Blaine. Blaine Anderson. But...Blaine."

Kurt furrowed his brow as he shook the Blaine's hand, still trying to figure out what was happening.

"...Are you alright, chap?" Blaine asked, teasingly cocking an eyebrow.

Kurt pulled himself together, chuckling nervously. "Sorry. I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

"It's alright. Pleasure to meet you, Kurt Hummel." Blaine smiled broadly, standing next to his mother and father.

"And yes, this is our son, Blaine Everett Anderson," Eve said proudly.

"Mum..." Blaine muttered, obviously annoyed with the mention of his middle name.

"Wait...why weren't you drafted?" Kurt suddenly wondered, looking up at Harold."Not to be insensitive," he added quickly, "just..."

Harold gave a hearty laugh and held out his hands. Kurt and the others took a closer look to see that his fingers were the slightest bit crooked, and his joints were inflamed.

"Arthritis." He said simply, with a small smile. "Not that it keeps me from living my life much less." He dropped his hands back to his sides. "Although, one thing I miss the most is the guitar. I'd play for hours on end."

Eve chuckled, leaning her head onto her husband's shoulder. "Probably one of the leading causes."

"Well, at least it doesn't keep the music out of our house! I taught Blaine how to play when he was five! Got a natural ear for music, just like his father, I say!"

Blaine's mother grinned. "Yes, Blaine darling, why don't you play guitar for them sometime?"

"...Right now?"

"No, of course not!" She turned to the four pitiful figures in the room. "You must be starving, and exhausted, I'm sure. Come, Agnes has prepared something."

"Oh yes I have," Agnes smiled as she lead everyone into the dining room.

* * *

><p>Everyone in the house ate a hearty dinner of greens, lamb stew and salad. Though they made sure to show their thanks, Kurt, Rachel, Finn and Sam didn't really talk much throughout the entire meal. Harold decided not to ask further, knowing how painful it was to have loved ones go out into the war. So after their quiet meal and a lovely dessert of cherry pie, Mercedes and her mother helped Rachel get settled, and Blaine led Finn, Sam, and Kurt to their respective rooms.<p>

"So it's Finnegan?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah...but most just call me Finn." Finn said as he lugged his trunk up the stairs.

"Ah. Alright. Well, there's your room, down on the right," Blaine pointed down the hall. "Do you need any help?"

"-No, um..." Finn started, awkwardly heading towards the door. "No, I'd really rather just...Goodnight." He muttered as he slipped into his room, shutting the door behind him. Blaine furrowed his brow in confusion, before thinking it best to just shrug it off and help Sam get to his room next.

"Sam, I think my mother put you in the room down here...ah, yes," he smiled, pushing the door open. Sam muttered what sounded to be "ta," and shuffled into the room, closing the door behind him as well.

Blaine scrunched his face up in what seemed to be a mix of confusion and mostly sympathy. Shrugging, he turned around to-

-Oh right, Kurt.

Blaine wasn't sure about this boy Kurt...he was quiet, reserved. But there was something about him...that was still all in one piece. His powerful blue eyes were still strong and so captivating, it was quite intriguing. Blaine knew he had to at least get to know Kurt.

He walked up to Kurt, who had his head down, clutching his trunk tightly.

"Hiya," Blaine smiled.

Kurt gave a brief smile in return. "H'lo..."

"So...how was the train?" Blaine asked, hoping Kurt wouldn't close up on him like Finn and Sam had.

Kurt shrugged as they walked on down the hall. "Alright, I suppose."

Blaine nodded and there was another awkward silence between them.

"So...how's London?" Blaine asked, trying to start up the conversation.

_...How's London?_

Kurt stopped in his tracks, turning to Blaine with powerful eyes.

"It's being bombed to bits as we speak, how do you reckon that one out?" He snapped, glaring down at the slightly shorter boy beside him.

"Oi!" Blaine exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear!"

"Well, what else do you expect me to say?" Kurt continued. "It's only the truth!"

"Cor, Kurt, I really only meant...I meant...before this."

And there it was. Kurt closed up, turning away from Blaine and retreating down the hall.

Blaine stood there, feeling defeated for a moment, before catching up to Kurt.

"Kurt, please," he said, grabbing Kurt gently by the forearm. But before Blaine could continue, Kurt interjected.

"Will you please show me to my room? And then kindly clear off?" Kurt asked, not looking towards Blaine. Kurt knew he seemed brash, but what people thought of him didn't really matter right now. Right now, he just wanted the world to go away.

Blaine furrowed his brow, feeling hurt. "Alright...here we go." Blaine walked a few steps forward, coming to a door on his right, turning the handle, and pushing it open.

Kurt stepped into the room, and if he weren't so emotionally challenged at the moment, he'd take in it all. The soft, white linens, the scent of lilacs that was lingering in the air ever-so-slightly, the fresh clothes sitting at the foot of the plush bed.

"My mum laid out some fresh sheets and clothes," Blaine said. "It tends to get colder at night."

Kurt sighed, glancing at Blaine only slightly in acknowledgence. "Thank you."

Blaine nodded, his expression droll. "Of course. See you in the morning."

With that, Blaine turned out the door, closing it behind him, and walked towards his own room, at the end of the hall.

Kurt stood there for a moment as he listened to Blaine's retreating footsteps.

When Kurt heard nothing but silence, he finally got his mind in order, proceeding to strip out of the clothes he'd worn all day. In his underwear, he looked between the soft, cotton pajamas Mrs. Anderson had set out for him, and the worn, holey ones he'd brought along with him.

Spending a good five minutes debating between physical comfort and emotional comfort in the pieces of nightwear, Kurt decided to just crawl between the sheets in his underwear. He didn't care anymore. He couldn't if he tried, thinking was impossible at the moment. He blew out his candle and lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

Kurt swallowed, that numb feeling overpowering him again as he closed his eyes, waiting for that sleepy feeling.

...Which he'd almost entirely achieved after a few hours, when the crash of thunder brought reality back, hitting him straight-on like a train.

_What if father gets killed at war?_

_What if mother is forced to live alone? _

_What if London is bombed to pieces?_

_What if they decide to bomb the countryside?_

_What if we lose the war? Or worse..._

_What if this war..._

_Never._

_Ends._

Kurt abruptly sat up, his mouth dry and gasping for air.

Once he'd caught his breath, he scanned his surroundings, remembering where he was. He glanced over to see that he'd left his window open, the cold night air hitting his face and arms with clinging force.

Kurt tried to move to close the window, but found himself unable to do so, slumping as the reality of war kept hitting him repeatedly.

He'd felt the numb phase, not being able to feel anything. Denial.

Now it was phase two: feeling just about everything, but not being able to do shit's worth of anything about it. He couldn't fight the Nazis with the men. He couldn't comfort and protect the women left alone in London, having to fend for themselves in this dark, drab world.

He was a child. Useless.

Another cold breeze came in through the window, and Kurt felt himself falling apart agian. _No, don't do it, grow up, be brave, _Kurt kept telling himself, trying to do as his mother had wished. But he couldn't help himself as he crumbled to pieces, letting the tears fall down his face a freely as they wished. He wanted his home. He missed his scratchy, worn sheets and the homey scent they bore. He wanted his dad and his mum, and oh Lord, he just wanted this all to end.

In an act of desperate thirst, Kurt finally found himself getting up, out of bed, and threw on the soft pajamas. He stepped into the slippers he found by the bed, and stepped into the hall as silently as he could. In the frightening darkness, cringing at the occasionaly strikes of lightning, he blindly made his way up the hall, down the stairs, and was just about to turn down the hall when-

BAM!

Kurt stumbled into a figure, both of them screaming at the contact. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, sitting there and trembling.

"Are you alright there?" The figure asked.

Instead of answering, Kurt found himself whimpering again. _Oh God, it's dark, it's cold, what's happening?_

He heard the figure give a murmur of sympathy, before they wrapped their arms around him, cooing.

"Shhh, it's me, Mercedes."

Kurt steadied his breathing, looking into the darkness where he was sure Mercedes's face could be found. "Oh...h-hello Mercedes."

"Couldn't sleep?"

Kurt shook his head furiously, and Mercedes helped pull him up.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know how bad it is. My father died whe-"

"-My parents aren't dead," Kurt quickly said. "I just..."

As he trailed off, Mercedes reached over to light a paraffin lamp sitting on the table beside them. In the new light, Kurt could see Mercedes's face clearly, her brown skin glowing and empathetic expression clear as day.

"I couldn't sleep either. Would you like some tea?"

Kurt found himself nodding and smiling at her kindness. "Please."

Mercedes smiled and lead Kurt down the hallway. They entered the dining room to see Rachel sitting at the table, sobbing fiercely. Finn and Blaine were sitting on either side of her, cooing and shushing as best they could. Sam was sitting next to Finn, said boys' eyes red and puffy. All four of them were sopping wet, especially Rachel.

Blaine looked up to Mercedes and Kurt from where he was comforting the small girl.

"Oh, hello Mercedes," he smiled lightly. He turned to Kurt and his expression became guilty. "H'lo, Kurt," he said in a small voice.

Kurt looked down. "Hello."

Mercedes looked between the two questioningly, before addressing the matter at hand. "What happened?" She asked Finn, pointing at Rachel.

Finn rubbed his face with his sleeve, sniffling. He was about to answer, when Rachel cut in, hiccuping between words.

"I-I tried to sleep, b-but I could b-barely have a k-kip...I c-couldn't get it off-f my m-mind, what they're d-doing, w-what's going to h-happen to my f-father _when they f-find him_,"

She trailed off again, sobbing into her hands, and everyone saw how fragile Rachel really was. Yes, sure, she was safe here in the countryside. But her quite obvious Jewish heritage was what the Nazis were looking for, and her father...

Kurt felt a chill through his spine. He thought Rachel to be optimistic and naïve, when really she was trying to mask the thought that her family was targeted in this war. She would be lucky for any of her relatives to be alive when this was all over. Kurt thought this was sick, that people would be killed for the way they were born.

...And then there's that feeling again. That helpless, worthless feeling.

"Sam came into my room...neither of us could sleep," Finn explained. "We started talking about home..." Finn's voice cracked a little on that last word. "And then we heard Rachel crying out on the balcony."

Rachel wailed and Kurt could see everyone take a shaky breath.

"I-I woke up," Blaine continued. "And heard them on the balcony. I stepped out, and they were trying to pull Rachel back inside. But she kept...refusing, I guess."

"Th-the rain smelled like h-home..." Rachel added.

Blaine sighed. "I legged it over and helped them pull her out of the rain. I told Finn and Sam to take her downstairs while I ran upstairs to tell my parents to just go back to sleep. And...here we are."

The group stayed silent for a moment, when Mercedes broke the tension.

"Well, I think this calls for some tea, hm?" She asked, clapping her hands together and wearing a small smile. "Oh, and look at you! You're freezing!" She said, addressing the four sopping wet, shivering figures before her. "Here, I'll put the water on, and then I'll go fetch you some towels."

"Thank you, Mercedes," Blaine smiled graciously.

"Of course." She returned with a smile. "Kurt, would you mind helping me out?"

"O-oh, of course not," Kurt replied, following Mercedes as she put a pot on the stove to boil water. After that simple task was done, she led him upstairs to the closet to get some fresh towels.

* * *

><p>"So, where do you hail from, Kurt?" Mercedes asked after they'd passed out the towels.<p>

Kurt kept his head down, looking at the boiling tea water. "London."

Mercedes looked up. "London, eh? Care to be more specific?"

Kurt chuckled a little. "Wandsworth. The dodgy end."

"Dodgy?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow.

"Quite."

Mercedes chuckled along, and Kurt found himself warming up already.

The two chatted and poured the tea when it was ready, joining the others who were sitting in the floor in the middle of the living room, in conversation and quite possibly laughing a little. Kurt sat himself in one of the nearby armchairs, still not feeling very social. He sipped his tea slowly, letting the warmth slosh around his mouth until it lost most of its heat, before taking another sip. The others finished long before he did, and began to head up to bed. Kurt insisted that no, he'd be up soon. He was just finishing his tea first. They all said their goodnights, and Kurt sat in the armchair, staring into his diminishing cup of tea in a trance.

"Hey, Kurt?"

Kurt looked up to see Blaine standing timidly before him, clutching his teacup in his hands. Kurt was still somewhat brassed off with Blaine for some reason, but decided to address him anyways.

"Yes, Blaine?"

Blaine shuffled nervously. "I-I...I just wanted to genuinely apologize for earlier...It was insensitive of me to talk like that..."

Blaine lowered himself so he was level with Kurt. "I've always lived here, Kurt. All my family. For generations. We're sheltered here. I've never had to go through what you have to. Or Finn, Sam and Rachel, for that matter. I...I just hope you can forgive me for being such a git earlier."

Kurt looked straight forward into this boy's eyes, sensing complete truth. He was taken aback by how much talking with Finn, Rachel, and Sam must have opened his mind. This boy had probably never seen a house become half-demolished during an air raid (which Kurt had seen too many of.) It really wasn't his fault he was so ignorant about the outside world.

Kurt suddenly felt a sense of guilt.

"No...I mean, yes, I forgive you, but...I was a right git as well," Kurt said with a shrug. "I'm sorry. Can't we just agree that we're both complete gits and call it even?"

The boys shared a look before breaking into a much-awaited, hearty laugh.

"Well," Blaine started, glancing at the clock, which now read 3:09. He stood up. "I should get some sleep. And if I didn't know better, I'd say you need sleep too."

Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling. "I _suppose_ so."

Blaine chuckled once again. "May I?" He offered, pointing to Kurt's empty cup.

Kurt smiled, letting Blaine take his cup to set in the sink. The two walked up the stairs, pausing in front of Kurt's door.

"Well...I suppose this is where we depart." Blaine said.

"I suppose..." Kurt returned.

"So," Blaine started, "I feel as though I should at least try to keep you entertained while you're here. How do you feel about a tour of the area tomorrow?"

Kurt smiled. "I'd be honored. The countryside really is beautiful."

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "It really is."

"So..." Blaine started again after a short pause. "I'll see you in the morning."

Kurt nodded, not really wanting Blaine to leave, for some reason. "In the morning."

Blaine nodded once more before heading down the hall to his own room. Once he was out of eyeshot, Kurt closed the door and made his way to his bed, crawling under the soft covers.

Kurt stared at the ceiling, yet again waiting for that sleepy feeling. But this time, more cheerful thoughts were running through his head. Like the fact that these five people (mostly Rachel, Blaine, and Mercedes) had actually made him genuinely smile since he'd left the station. Or the fact that he was overly-eager to make friends with said five chaps.

Or the fact that, especially after that talk with Blaine...

Kurt realized the reason he was here, in the remote countryside.

He felt completely and utterly safe.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	2. Getting To Know You

**Hello readers! **

**First of all, I just want to say thank you SO much for all the story subscriptions and hits! Really, you guys are marvelous. I also want to mention how_ incredibly_ sorry I am that I can't update as often as I would like. Frankly, I have a lot on my plate right now, with school during the week, working on the weekends...it's quite unfortunate. Really, all this week I've just been begging to everything for just one day where I can be shamelessly lazy, lying in my bed and writing all day. Sigh. So, those who have been sticking with this fic, BRAVO!**

**I honestly wasn't_ as_ happy as I would like to be with this chapter at first. I'll admit, for the sake of character elaboration, this chapter isn't the most climactic. At a certain point I was just kind of like, "GET ON WITH IT." But it was probably the fact that I just wanted to write it all down instead of doing anything else. The song in this chapter is called "How Deep Is The Ocean," a popular love song circa 1930-ish. My favorite version is sung by Julie Andrews, and can be found on YouTube. **

**Also, thanks again for the positive feedback! I love the reviews I've gotten so far, they truly are motivating! :) Again, I really don't know how long it'll be before I update again, but I will be writing every free second that I get. **

****Quick reminder, I am NOT BRITISH, nor am I too keen on history. There has been LOTS of research put into this fic, and I apologize if I get anything wrong. And as always, nothing belongs to me ever.****

****Remember, reviews make authors happy! :) ****

**Enough rambling, ON WITH THE FIC! **

* * *

><p>The crisp smell of morning stirred Kurt from a brief, yet satisfying sleep. His eyelashes fluttered open as soft sunbeams poured in through the open window. The rain had left the air fresh and sweet, an almost complete contrast to the factory smog that constantly filled his neighborhood.<p>

_It really is lovely here,_ Kurt smiled.

Stretching, Kurt got out of bed, slipped on the robe he found hanging on the bedpost, and made his way downstairs. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he saw that Rachel, Finn, Sam, Blaine, and Dr. and Mrs. Anderson were already seated at the table, sipping tea and filling themselves with baked beans, toast, eggs, and grilled tomatoes. The warm scent filled Kurt's nose, and he eagerly walked over to take the empty seat at the table.

"Ah, morning Kurt!" Dr. Anderson exclaimed as Kurt approached the group. "Got off to a late start this morning, eh? All you lot did, it's nearly eleven!" He joked, smirking at the five of them.

Kurt bit his lip. "Sorry, sir. Good morning."

"Morning," Rachel smiled brightly, for which Kurt was grateful.

Finn and Sam both murmured greetings as well, but Kurt could see they were more engrossed with the bounty of food placed before them. He thought this perfectly acceptable and just smiled.

"Frightening storm last night, eh?" Dr. Anderson asked as Kurt pulled his chair out.

Kurt exchanged knowing glances with the others at the table, sitfling a smile. "Yeh, it was alright." He took his seat and looked to Blaine, who was seated on his right.

"Sleep well?" Kurt asked.

Blaine smiled. "Eventually. And yourself?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

Blaine smiled even wider. "I'm glad. Would you care for some tea?" He gestured to the teapot in the center of the table.

Kurt found himself grinning as well. "Yes, thank you."

"That was the first storm of the year," Blaine's mother piped up as she took a sip of tea. "Summer is nearing its end. Blaine, darling, isn't it time you started school?"

Blaine groaned under his breath, pausing the teapot in midair. "Mother, I thought we agreed I'd not go to school just yet, for the sake of keeping them company," he said, gesturing to their guests.

"Excuse my asking, but, you have a school here?" Rachel asked before taking a bite of toast.

"Oh no, but the professor lives just across the lake," Mrs. Anderson smiled, gesturing out the window.

"Professor William Schuester, one of the wisest men you'll ever meet," Blaine's father stated with pride.

"We just call him Mr. Schue," Blaine said as he continued to pour Kurt's tea. "He's a friend of the family. He taught in Salisbury, but moved here to inhabit the house when his parents di-"

"-_Blaine_," his mother shot him a pointed look.

Blaine set the teapot down, glancing at his mother remorsefully. "-Please excuse me. When they _passed away._" He handed Kurt his teacup with a smile before continuing. "He offers us lessons."

"Us?" Kurt asked.

"Myself, Mercedes, and a few others who live in the area. But _mum_," he turned to his mother. "Must I continue my regular lessons?"

Eve Anderson sighed. "At_ least _once a week, dear, starting tomorrow. You really must keep up with your studies."

Blaine seemed to like this compromise. "Thanks, mum," he smiled.

"What about lessons?" Mercedes asked as she walked in from the kitchen, setting a plate of food in front of Kurt. "Hiya," she waved at Kurt, who smiled.

"Hello, Mercedes," he said before starting on his breakfast.

"Mum says we need only go to the Professor's once a week for awhile," Blaine grinned.

"Sounds brill," Mercedes grinned.

"_Only_ until you get into the pattern again," Eve added as she finished her last bites, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "So, what are your plans for today?"

"Well, I was thinking of taking everyone for a tour of the area," Blaine said, glancing at Kurt, who shared a smile.

"Uh..." Finn started, shifting awkwardly. "Yesterday's still got me knackered, and...I'd much rather just stay here today...-If that's alright with everyone," he added, looking nervous.

"And me, as well," Sam added quietly, glancing at the group before returning to look down at his plate.

"That's perfectly alright," Blaine said, giving Finn a reassuring smile. "How about you, Mercedes? Would you care to join us?"

Mercedes sighed. "I'd be honored, but there's a lot of work to be done around the house."

"I'll help you," Rachel smiled. "If that's alright? I'm not really in the mood to go out either."

Mercedes grinned. "If you'd like to."

Rachel eagerly got up with her plate, and followed Mercedes into the kitchen to start on the tasks that apparently needed to be completed around the house.

Finn and Sam got up as well, starting to make their way up to Finn's room. "Have fun," Finn smiled to Kurt and Blaine, before he followed Sam up the stairs.

Blaine waved back. "We will." He turned to Kurt. "So, what do you want to do first? We could go to the lake, or visit Mr. and Mrs. Schue, or-"

"-Oh Blaine, maybe you could take him to meet the Fabrays!" Blaine's mother chirped up.

Blaine groaned. "Mother, must I?"

"Well, dear, it seems perfectly respectable in my opinion. They live just down the road, and yet you haven't paid them a thoughtful visit all summer!"

Blaine shared a defeated look with his father across the table, before letting a forced smile come over his face. "Alright mum, I suppose _maybe_ we'll pay the Fabrays a visit."

"That's what I thought," Mrs. Anderson replied, cocking an amused eyebrow as she gathered up the plates to bring to the kitchen. "Go along, you boys get dressed. Kurt, if you haven't noticed already, there's new clothes and shoes for you in your closet. Have a grand time today."

"Thank you," Kurt smiled.

"Anytime, dear," Blaine's mother grinned back before turning into the kitchen.

"So," Blaine started, clapping his hands together as he and Kurt headed through the living room and up the stairs. "I'll meet you on the porch after we get dressed?"

Kurt nodded. "That sounds swell."

"Brill." Blaine grinned as they reached the top of the stairs, before turning to head towards his room.

Kurt watched Blaine's retreating back for a moment before he, too, walked into his room. He stopped by the bed, kneeling in front of his trunk on the floor nearby, clothes and things spilling out of it.

_No,_ Kurt told himself. _No more crying. It's lovely here, might as well take advantage of it. Time to move on._

Kurt took a deep breath, gathering himself together before heading towards the closet, curious to see what Mrs. Anderson had for him.

He opened the doors to brand-new shirts and slacks, along with various suspenders, belts, hats, and shoes. Kurt had never seen such a luxurious wardrobe all in one place before. And it was _all his._

"Blimey..."

* * *

><p>Kurt left his room wearing a pale blue button-up and tan slacks, loving the crisp, cool feel of the new clothes. Smiling, he made his way across the hall, down the stairs, and through the house out to the front porch to meet Blaine, just as planned. Blaine was really starting to grow on him, Kurt decided. Though at first he seemed like an ignorant arse, now Kurt could see that he was just...sheltered. And something about him kept Kurt wanting to investigate further.<p>

Kurt was just about to open the door to the porch, when he heard...

Music?

_**...How much do I love you?**_

_**I'll tell you no lie...**_

Curious, Kurt let go of the doorknob, and headed over to peer out the window. Sure enough, faced toward the distant hills, someone was out there. Someone with curly black hair, plucking the strings on a guitar delicately in time with his smooth singing. And...

...No...that couldn't be...

_Blaine?_

_**How deep is the ocean?**_

_**How high is the sky?**_

Kurt was speechless in a state of awe. No way could that be Blaine...

But it was.

_**How many times a day do I think of you?**_

_**How many roses are sprinkled with dew?**_

And then it was all...fuzzy, again. Blaine was a mystery to Kurt, but...this time it felt...good. Kurt found himself unable to stop staring at Blaine, letting the smooth tone of his voice roll around in Kurt's mind, making him feel dazed and dizzy.

_**How far would I travel...to be where you are?**_

_**How far is the journey from here to a star?**_

"Isn't he brill?" Asked a voice behind Kurt.

Kurt turned around to address said being. "Oh, hello Mercedes, Rachel. Yes, he is...brill."

Mercedes and Rachel watched Kurt gaze at Blaine for awhlie, before Rachel spoke up.

"Are you gonna just stand there like a codfish all day?"

Kurt blinked abruptly and snapped his jaw shut, sending the giggling girls a pointed glare before heading out the door, just as Blaine finished up his song.

_**...How deep is the ocean?**_

_**How high is the sky?**_

"Uh...h'lo, Blaine," Kurt said hesitantly, coming up behind him.

Blaine's eyebrows shot up and he snapped around to Kurt. "Oh, uh..." He suddenly looked embarassed. "You didn't hear that, did you?"

Kurt smiled. "Actually, I heard the whole thing. It was quite lovely."

Blaine raised his head to look at Kurt. "R-really? You think?"

Kurt nodded. "Do you sing often?"

Blaine let a smile overcome his face. "Yea. My mum and dad taught me music when I was young."

Kurt looked impressed, and there was a silence between them before Blaine snapped himself back, placing the guitar on the bench beside him.

"Well, you ready?" Blaine asked as he stood in front of Kurt.

Kurt absently nodded, before snapping himself back into reality as well. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready."

Blaine grinned and gestured for Kurt to follow him as he started down the porch. Kurt followed, letting his eyes linger around the lush scenery.

"So," Blaine started, after they'd been walking for a minute or so. "Where'd you wanna go?"

"I have no preference," Kurt murmured, staring at the high treetops, loving the bright green-gold color they sported so well this time of year.

Blaine smiled. "It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Simply...beautiful." Kurt breathed.

"What's London like?" Blaine asked, before cringing, expecting Kurt was going to explode like last time. But Kurt only rolled his eyes.

"It's horrid. Just grays and browns and smog everywhere. Boring."

Blaine thought he noticed some hesitance in Kurt's tone, but decided to just wrinkle up his nose in distaste. "I'm sorry."

Kurt just shrugged. "It's alright. The change is...nice."

Blaine nodded slowly, trying work up the conversation again. He didn't get the chance to, though, because right at that moment-

"Hiya, Blaine!" One voice came up from behind him, hugging his waist with incredible force, and making the two stumble.

"You alright?" Came a second voice, though they both had the same playful tone.

Kurt looked over to see two boys pawing and hugging Blaine profusely, to the point where said victim was rolling his eyes in annoyment. The first boy had light blonde hair, and was of pretty tall stature. The second boy had dark hair, and both of them wore light tartan shirts with pants, suspenders, and identical caps on their heads. After Blaine finally shrugged the two off, Kurt could see their impish expressions they sported so well.

"Thanks for that, mates." Blaine glared as he straightened up, brushing himself off.

"Anytime, chap!" Smiled the dark-haired boy.

"The best for the best!" Added the blonde one, tipping his cap at Blaine.

"But where were you yesterday?"

"Yeah, we were going to ride bikes!"

"Has all that reading finally gone to your head?" The brown haired boy moved over, tapping Blaine on the head with his fist.

Blaine swatted him away. "_No_, we had company coming over and I was helping prepare." He let a smile sweet over his face as he gestured past the two boys. "Nick, Jeff, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Nick Duval-" he pointed to the dark-haired boy, who waved vigorously, "-and Jeff Sterling," he placed a hand on the shoulder of the blonde boy.

"Hallo!" Jeff grinned.

"We're Blaine's best mates!" Nick said matter-of-factly, hooking his thumbs under his suspenders.

"Unfortunately," Blaine grumbled.

"So, Kurt, where 'ya from?" Nick asked.

"Uh...London," Kurt answered.

Nick and Jeff shared looks of deep interest and moved over to Kurt, each hanging on either of his shoulders and bubbling with curiosity.

"London?" Jeff asked, eyes wide.

"Yes...London," Kurt nodded slowly, looking between the two as they blabbered on.

"How's the talent back in London?"

"Got yourself a nice bird, eh?"

"Have you met the King?"

"Or Big Ben?"

"Hey, HEY!" Blaine said, pushing them off a very fightened Kurt.

"Awww Blaine, we're only curious!" Nick whined.

"Yeah, we're only trying to be friendly!" Jeff insisted.

"You're being rightly _intrusive_," Blaine said, crossing his arms and looking between the two with a stern expression. Nick and Jeff hung their heads dejectedly, and Kurt couldn't help but smile a little at how much they resembled small dogs.

"We're sorry, Kurt." Jeff mumbled.

"Yeah, really sorry," Nick nodded, scuffing up the ground with his toe.

"It-" Kurt cleared his throat as he was about to laugh, "-it's alright. I forgive you."

The two quickly brightened up, each taking one of Kurt's arms and heading down the path, leaving Blaine to follow behind.

"So, where we walking to?" Jeff asked.

"Uh...well, I'm not too sure. Mrs. Anderson mentioned Fabrays..." Kurt said.

Nick and Jeff stopped in their path with wide eyes, glancing between each other and Kurt.

"Fabrays?_ The _Fabrays?"

"As in..._Quinn _Fabray?"

"Uh..." Kurt began, looking back at Blaine, who seemed to have a pained expression on his face. "I suppose...?"

"Oh _blimey_!" Jeff exclaimed, breaking away from the group to tear his cap off his head and bury his face in it, as if to stifle screams. Nick stood there, mouth hanging open and hands gripping his head with great force.

"...What?" Kurt asked, thinking he said something wrong at the range of emotions all the boys were sporting.

"See," Jeff started, shoving his cap back on his head and placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Quinn Fabray is-" he made a big gesture with his hands, eyes wide and nodding furiously. "-_crackin'. _You could search left, right, and centre for a bird like her-"

"-Or Brittany! And that Spanish bird!" Nick added, swooning like no other.

"-Right, or her friends, but Quinn..." Jeff sighed, rolling his eyes. "She's a catch. And _Blaine _here-" he turned Kurt around and pointed to Blaine, who was rolling his eyes in boredom, "-is the luckiest bugger around!"

"The Fabrays and the Andersons have been old friends for eons!" Nick threw his hands up in the air. "Which means-"

"-Blaine is expected to marry Miss Quinn, and Quinn to Blaine," Jeff continued.

"And the bloke doesn't think anything of it!" Nick flailed his arms even more. "You'd think he despised the lady!"

"I do not _despise_ her," Blaine said, stomping over to the group.

"Then go on, mate! Snatch her, right now!" Nick persisted.

"Yeah, we'll even fetch her for you!" Jeff added, sharing a look with Nick before they took off in the opposite direction.

"Quinn! _Quinn_!" They shouted as they ran off.

"_Sod it_," Blaine cursed as he took off after the two psychopaths, Kurt confusedly following close behind. "Get back here _you bloody gits_!"

* * *

><p>Nick and Jeff ran as fast as their feet could carry them down the dirt road, calling Quinn's name, until they reached a large, light blue house, surrounded by a lovely white rose garden and cherry trees. Blaine and Kurt caught up to them, out of breath, just as they began to knock on the door.<p>

"_Quinn_!" Nick shouted, as he banged his fist repetitively on the door.

"_Qui-inn_!" Jeff echoed.

Before Blaine could get his hands around their necks, though, the door opened. Nick and Jeff froze and backed away, and Kurt could clearly see what must have been Quinn. A girl just about his age, and when they said she was cracking, _blimey_, were they wrong. She was _beautiful._ With fair skin and blonde locks, sparkling green eyes, and the most dainty smile, she was absolutely stunning.

And...for some reason, it made Kurt...angry. Sure, she was probably a nice girl, but...the thought of her practically claiming Blaine..._irked_ Kurt, in a way.

Smiling widely, Quinn opened the door even wider and stepped out, wearing a slim, light-blue dress.

"Hello boys-" she glanced between Nick and Jeff before turning towards Blaine. "-Blaine."

Blaine cleared his throat before pasting on a smile, approaching Quinn. "Quinny, it's good to see you."

Quinn laughed, taking Blaine into an un-suspected hug. "It's about time, don't you think? You live right down the way, and I haven't seen you in nearly a month! I...missed you."

Blaine suddenly looked just a tad uncomfortable, but smiled nonetheless when they broke apart. "I missed you too. Uh, yeah, I've just, uh...been quite blinkered on reading lately."

"Yes," Nick cut in, smiling sweetly alongside Jeff. "Let's go with that, shall we?"

Blaine glared at his best mates before adding, "not to mention we just got visitors. Evacuees," he stepped aside and gestured to Kurt, smiling proudly. "This is Kurt Hummel. He's from London."

Quinn smiled tightly at the new figure before her. "Hello, Kurt. I'm Quinn Fabray. Blaine and I go way back."

"Not really..." Blaine said, letting his eyes linger everywhere else but the people before him.

"We've known each other since childhood. Running around, gallivanting in the trees and such...and now, look how far we've come!"

Blaine swallowed audibly. "We haven't come _that_ far..."

"Of_ course _we have," Quinn insisted. "Having such close families, being just down the way from one another, you could say we're quite..." she grabbed Blaine's hand in her own, "_Au fait,_ with each other."

Kurt uncomfortably glanced around, particularly noticing Nick and Jeff's extreme expressions of both despair and encouragement.

"Uh..." Blaine cleared his throat, releasing his hand from Quinn's hold and backing towards Kurt. "Well, I promised Kurt I'd show him around the area more, so...I will see you later."

Quinn looked dejected, but smiled. "Of course. You should come over for tea sometime. My mother's been awaiting your visit."

"I'll be sure to remember that," Blaine assured her. "Goodbye, Quinn."

"Goodbye Blaine, Nick, Jeff, Kurt," she waved at all the boys as she headed back inside her house, smiling brightly.

"Goodbye, Quinn!" Nick waved, jumping up and down.

"Hope to see you soon!" Jeff shouted.

Quinn shot them all another breathtaking smile before she disappeared inside her house. Once they heard the door click, Blaine turned to face Nick and Jeff, sweet smile instantly melting off his face, and a more irritated expression taking its place.

"You two think you're _really_ cheeky, don't you though?" He said as he approached them.

"Blaine, we're only telling you the truth!" Jeff insisted as the four started down the porch and back onto the path. "You've got yourself a golden opportunity there!"

"I'm sure you wouldn't even find anyone like Quinn in _London_," Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Really, if I were you, I'd be delighted!"

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, when Jeff spoke. "_Well_, I think I'd like a spot of tea about now, don't you, Nick?"

Nick nodded. "Quite. I think we've been out long enough, Jeff."

"And..." Jeff added, leaning into the group. "Maybe next time Blaine won't be such a _prat_ about everything."

"Oh, get OFF!" Blaine shouted, as Jeff and Nick giggled loudly, running off in what must have been the direction of Jeff's house.

"Bye Blaine!"

"Pleasure to meet you, Kurt!"

Kurt chuckled as he watched the two at first run, and then evolve into skipping away. He turned to Blaine, who still had a stressed expression on his face. "Well, they seem like alright chaps."

Blaine looked at Kurt first with shock, but then began chuckling along, and soon the two of them were laughing loudly as they walked along the path.

* * *

><p>"So..." Kurt started, after they'd been going along for awhile. "What <em>is<em> going on between you and Quinn?" He noticed Blaine roll his eyes and quickly added, "-not that it's any of my business. I was only...curious."

Blaine chuckled under his breath as he lead them off the path to sit on the bank of the river, beside the green grass under a willow tree.

"Quinn and I..." Blaine began, after a long pause of taking in the scenery around them. "Have known each other since birth, one could say. Our fathers worked together, until my father got arthritus, and couldn't continue his medical practice. Our mothers adore each other and have tea and..." Blaine sighed. "Basically, our families are close, and agreed that it would be quite the fortune if we got _married_." He finished with much annoyance, looking out into the distance with far-off eyes.

"But?" Kurt pressed on, "Nick and Jeff are right. She _is_ truly lovely."

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "She is. And _she's _very keen on the idea as well. But," Blaine picked up a small stone from the ground, turning it around in his hands. "Something just doesn't feel right. I don't know what, but...I know it's _not_ what I want, y'know?" Kurt nodded.

"It's not as if they're forcing me into anything," Blaine continued, clenching his fists and jaw with great tension, "but they might as well be. There's _so _much pressure with the lot of it, that _just_-" Blaine stopped himself before his voice raised any more, and tossed the stone with great force into the river, watching it skip a few times before it finally disappeared under the surface of the water.

Blaine sighed, the force he put into the stone calming him down a bit. "Like Nick and Jeff say, she's perfect, yeah, sure. Just...not for me."

"...Who do you think _is_?" Kurt asked.

Blaine just shrugged and lowered himself to lay in the grass, his sculpted muscles even more visible through his shirt. "Don't know-" Blaine yawned, letting his eyes fall closed. "...But I'll know 'em when I see 'em."

Kurt nodded slowly, lowering himself into the grass beside Blaine, taking in his features. His chiseled jaw, his deep black hair, his bronze skin. The way he sung, the way he spoke, the way he...everything. Blaine was...lovely. And, for some reason or another, Kurt couldn't help how much he wished he was lovely to Blaine, too.

"So," Blaine began, turning back to look at Kurt. "Could you tell me about London? I've only gone a few times, for holiday. I'd really like to learn more about you, if you don't mind?"

Kurt studied Blaine for a moment as the boy shot him a hopeful smile. Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled back, feeling obligated to let Blaine know a little more about him.

They lay like that for awhile, Kurt explaining London to Blaine, who took every bit with genuine interest. Through all of this, both of them felt confused as ever, yet completely at ease for one of the first times that whole summer. As their conversation grew, Blaine no longer felt as if the world was on his shoulders, and Kurt no longer felt numb and fearful. Through all the fog they felt for each other at the moment, one thing was sure: they both felt unconditional safety, lying there with each other, with no intent to leave this happy place anytime soon.

* * *

><p><em>"Kurt! Kurt!"<em>

_The panic-driven voice of Kurt's mother pulled him abruptly from sleep into his dark, London bedroom, lights flashing violently outside and sirens blaring._

_"Kurt, it's an air raid, we must leave now!" His mother urged, her youth suddenly masked by eyes that had seen too much for their time._

_Kurt ripped the covers off, but as his feet touched the cold floor, he felt them to be stuck there._

_"Kurt, darling, run!" His mother pleaded, motioning toward the shelter door._

_Kurt tried as hard as he could to lift his feet from the floor, but it was as if they had been plastered down, and, losing his balance, he fell over onto his knees, which also became stuck to the floor. Kurt continued to attempt to move, towards his mother and the bomb shelter and safety, but they just seemed to keep getting further away._

_"Kurt!" Rose continued to call, her voice becoming distorted. "Kurt!"_

_The bombs were falling, seemingly closer with each one, shattering the earth on impact. And there were the sirens and the flickering streetlamps and Kurt was drifting in and out, between this and complete darkness, his heart beating in his ears, a constant ringing sensation bouncing around his head, oh and he just wanted it to end. He just wanted to leave this place._

_"Kurt! Kurt!"_

_But he couldn't. He was stuck._

_"Kurt!"_

_And the bombs were only coming closer..._

And then, suddenly, it was as if something was pulling him out of that horrid place, away from the buzzing and the ringing and the fear, and everything was still.

"Kurt! Kurt, wake up!"

* * *

><p>Kurt opened his eyes abruptly, to see Blaine leaning over him, his hands on Kurt's shoulders, eyes wide. He sighed in relief when Kurt finally stopped shaking.<p>

"God blimey Kurt, you alright?" Blaine asked.

"Uh..." Kurt looked around for a moment, taking a minute to remember where he was. Once it dawned on him, Kurt looked back into the steady eyes of Blaine, their breathing in sync and bodies close.

"Uh..." Kurt started again, shaking his head, "w-what happened?"

"You were asleep," Blaine cleared his throat. "We both were, and you started whimpering and shaking and I kept trying to wake you, but you wouldn't answer to your name. Were you dreaming?"

Kurt nodded slowly, trying to keep himself from staring at Blaine. What was he feeling? And _why_ was he feeling it, especially now? It was like...he needed Blaine. He felt safe and secure with Blaine. He forgot about the reason why he was staying with the Andersons when Blaine was there.

"...Was it scary?" Blaine piped up, still concerned by Kurt's silence.

Kurt nodded one more time before trying his hardest not to cry, taking a shaky breath.

"Kurt..." Blaine empathized. He looked hesitant for a moment, eyes darting here and there, before taking Kurt into a hug. Kurt froze up at the sudden contact, before allowing himself to wrap his arms around Blaine. They were silent for a moment before Blaine spoke.

"Y-you know, you can cry if you need to. I don't mind."

Kurt chuckled a little. "I...I don't need to," He assured Blaine. And he didn't. Not when Blaine was holding him like this, rubbing Kurt's back with gentle hands.

"_Kurt_!_ Uh...Blaine_!" Called an unsure, distant voice. Kurt and Blaine turned towards the road to see Finn and Sam approaching. Their eyes met and Finn and Sam ran towards the two.

"Uh..." Finn froze when he saw their embrace. "Uh..." He turned to Blaine. "Your mum- Uh, Mrs. Anderson said it's time for dinner."

"_Really_?" Blaine sat up with shock. "What's the time?"

"I'm not sure...What time was it when we left, Sam?" Finn asked the blonde boy sitting next to him.

"Half past three," Sam mumbled, keeping his head down.

"Cor!" Blaine exclaimed, standing up. "Thanks for coming to get us, chaps," Blaine beamed at Finn and Sam.

"Sure," Finn returned the smile. Sam nodded, but didn't seem to acknowledge them further.

"Right, well we'd better get back," Blaine said. He looked down at Kurt and offered him a hand. "Need help?"

Kurt smiled, taking Blaine's proferred hand to hoist himself up. Blaine's fingers were...rough, somewhat. Probably from constant guitar playing, Kurt figured. Not that Kurt minded the roughness one bit. Just holding his hand in Blaine's felt...nice. Really nice. Nice enough for Kurt to miss it when Blaine let go.

* * *

><p>After the four sprinted back to the Anderson's, everyone indulged in a hearty meal, prepared by Rachel and Mercedes, who seemed to really connect in the few hours after Kurt and Blaine left. While conversations were a flurry, Sam kept his head down and chewed slowly throughout the entire meal.<p>

"Hey, Finn?" Blaine whispered to Finn, interrupting his conversation with Rachel.

Finn turned to Blaine. "Uh...what?"

"What's with Sam?" Blaine wondered, pointing across the table to the quiet blond boy. "He's barely said more than four words since I've met him."

"Oh..." Finn said, suddenly startled by the conversation.

"-I mean, not that you have to tell me. I just thought that since you two were together all day and I'd really like to know you guys better..." Blaine trailed off. Finn looked to be in consideration for a moment and, seeing that Rachel had already moved on and begun a shy conversation across the table with Sam, lowered his voice and leaned into Blaine.

"Sam's mother died years ago from pneumonia, and his father left off to war. He's been staying at his grandparent's with his brother and two sisters. They got sent off to some professor out west, while Sam insisted on staying with his grandparents and, eventually, enlisting." Finn took a nervous breath and glanced over to Sam to make sure he was still keeping to himself. Just for good measure, Finn lowered his voice down to a whisper. "About three days ago, Sam got a telegram that his father had gone missing. They're not sure how or where, or if he's even alive. His grandparents insisted he evacuate the next day."

Blaine swallowed audibly and his eyes grew wide. He couldn't imagine losing his father or mother, and hearing Rachel and Kurt's stories only amplified everything. Did everybody outside of the calm, remote countryside have hardships such as these?

"Just don't mention it, alright?" Finn pleaded to Blaine. "I've been trying to get his mind off it all day, I just don't know what to do anymore."

Blaine thought for a moment before brightening up. "Why don't you all come with me and Mercedes to our lesson with Professor Schuester tomorrow? It could...take your mind off things?"

Finn nodded, smiling slightly. "I'd like that. I'm sure Sam'll tag along."

"Ace," Blaine grinned, straightening up in his seat again. Finn grinned back before digging into his meal once again. Blaine followed suit, cutting into his tomatoes. He took a small bite, looking around the table as he chewed tangy-sweet vegetable. Rachel and Finn seemed to be talking up a storm. Or, rather, Rachel was talking and Finn was listening. Mercedes and Kurt were engaged in conversation as well, and Sam... Well, Sam would come around eventually. Blaine was sure of this. Everyone comes around eventually, don't they?

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts? Feelings? Questions? <strong>

**...Review?**


	3. Apples And Education

**Oh whoa, did Rosy really update one of her fics?**

**YUP.**

**Yes, I know, I haven't updated for about two months now. I've been VERY distracted. I'm so sorry, and thank you for sticking with me! I really don't have any other excuse, but again, I am VERY sorry. I plan to finish this fic , and "Honey, Honey," but sometimes it's tough.**

**Anyways, about this chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last two, and I'm sorry if it seems a little rushed, but lots of it is filler. I just really wanted to update. :|**

**Also, thanks to "cuter-than-a-guinea-pig" for informing that there was in fact no Queen during WWII, as her father was still the King. Thank you! Please, don't hesitate to correct me in anything! It just helps me learn. :) And if something doesn't make sense, feel free to ask!**

* * *

><p>"Blaine! Blaine Anderson, open this door right now!"<p>

Blaine groggily raised his head from his soft pillow, instantly shuddering as the warmth left the back of his head.

"Alright Mercedes, keep calm!" He shouted back, stepping out of bed carefully.

"Hurry up, I have stuff to do!" Mercedes rapped on the door.

Blaine groaned, wiping the sleep out of his eyes as he crossed the room opened the door. "Yes?"

"Your mother told me to wake you. We're going to the Schuester's this morning, remember? Your father wanted me to make sure you wouldn't sleep until noon again," she smirked.

"So..." Blaine glanced out his window. The sun was just barely over the hills. "...You decided it best to wake me at the crack of dawn?"

"Hm, I suppose you could say that." Mercedes grinned. "And since you're up, maybe you could help me with some chores?"

Blaine leaned on his doorframe, smirking back. "You can't be serious."

Mercedes snorted. "Well, it would compensate for leaving me alone with Rachel all day yesterday," she raised her eyebrows.

Blaine stifled a laugh. "Is she really that dreadful?"

"No, she's fine! Just very..." Mercedes searched for the right word. "Loud?"

They tried to hold it in, but Blaine and Mercedes burst into hushed laughter, which echoed through the hall.

"Anyways..." Mercedes started one they'd caught their breath. "About those chores..."

Blaine faked a sigh, looking down at Mercedes's puppy dog expression. "Alright," he submitted, "I'll be right down."

"Thanks mate!" Mercedes grinned playfully, heading back downstairs.

Blaine smiled to himself, shaking his head, before moving back into his room to get into work clothes.

"So, what did you do with Kurt yesterday?" Mercedes asked as they headed out to the backyard, holding baskets.

Blaine shrugged, skipping a little ahead of her to approach one of their apple trees. Reaching up, he picked a ripe apple off the tree and let it roll around in his hand. "Talked. Saw Nick and Jeff. Nice bloke."

"Is it true you fell asleep?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow as she plucked a ripe apple and placed it in her basket.

Blaine scoffed and paused the apple he was about to sink his teeth into. "Who told you?"

Mercedes snorted. "Kurt. It's quite amusing, really. He seems to be very fond of you."

Blaine smiled, biting into the fruit. He examined the tree for more ripe apples with his free hand, carefully placing them in the basket. "I'm glad. He's very...interesting."

"Hm?" Mercedes asked.

Blaine furrowed his brow, searching his head for the word that described Kurt best. He shrugged. "Not sure. He's just very...interesting."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Alright, we'll go with intersting."

Blaine laughed along, moving to the other tree.

"Y'know who else is interesting?" Mercedes asked, looking at nothing in particular. "Quinn."

Blaine choughed in surprise, almost choking on his apple. Gathering his composure, he straightened up, grimacing at Mercedes, who was quite amused.

"She's not interesting," he grumbled. "Not in the least."

"That's not what your mother would say..." Mercedes hinted, Blaine freezing at the phrase.

"Is it not?" Blaine asked, quite obnoxiously. His mum was in love with Quinn, and the Fabrays. He knew that. He also knew how proud marrying Quinn would make them and, especially as he was maturing, making his parents proud was always the thing on Blaine's mind these days.

"As much as would I like to dispute the fact, she's quite lovely. And bright. She's a right gem, as Nick and Jeff would say," Mercedes added, receiving a chuckle from Blaine. "So why not?" Blaine hesitated. "...Unless you have someone else in mind?" Mercedes added.

"Well..." Blaine mumbled, trying to think of the best response to this question. "No. Not particularly."

Mercedes gave a sympathetic smile before turning back to the apple tree. "I'm only trying to help. After all, it's your mother who fawns over Quinn day and night. And while she's not really my cup of tea..." Mercedes shrugged. "She's...wholesome? I suppose?"

Blaine laughed at his friend. "Mercedes, this conversation is going nowhere."

Mercedes smiled as she plucked another fruit from the branch. "I'm merely reminding you of the situation you're in."

"Oh, fantastic," Blaine smirked. Mercedes laughed, snagging one more apple from the tree before pulling Blaine into the house.

"C'mon, we still have more chores before the others wake up."

"...Like what?" Blaine asked cautiously.

Mercedes shrugged, holding back a grin. "Mucking out the horses?"

Blaine threw his head back and let out a groan. This was going to be a long morning.

* * *

><p>When the sun was high in the sky and everyone had eaten their fill of breakfast, everyone got dressed up and gathered to go to Professor Schuester's house for lessons.<p>

"Have fun everybody!" Blaine's father shouted from the porch as Blaine, Kurt, Rachel, Finn, Sam, and Mercedes all gathered at the porch.

"We will, father!" Blaine called back.

"And give Quinn our best, Blaine!" Mrs. Anderson waved.

Blaine turned to give her a forced smile and nod, before leading the group down the path. The Schuesters lived across the lake, which meant they'd have to walk around the perimeter of the body of water, much to their despair. Fortunately, the sun wasn't shining too brightly- just enough to make the water sparkle and the leaves glisten in the breeze.

...And to make Kurt's eyes shine a bright aqua, Blaine noted as he studied the boy walking next to him. Kurt's eyes were lovely, Blaine had come to realize. How they changed, but still stayed the same. Blaine decided he like this blue best, though. It was as if the crisp shimmer of the lake had met the smooth sure tone of the sky.

Blaine turned ahead when he realized he was staring. Unfortunately, with the silence that was already between them, Blaine found this task easier said than done.

"Um...excited?" Blaine asked, causing Kurt to look tear his eyes away from the tempting, cool water.

"Yes," Kurt said, trying hard not to look directly at Blaine. He didn't know why, but every time he took in Blaine's somewhat charming features, Kurt got this fluttery feeling he just couldn't describe further. "It's very kind of him, the Professor," Kurt noted. "It's not as if he has any obligation to educate us."

Blaine nodded, smiling softly. "Professor Schue is quite the wizard. And he always welcomes friends, I'm sure he'd love to have all of you. Well, at least you, Kurt," he finished with a smile.

Kurt felt himself blushing at this. Even more so, when Blaine noticed his flushed appearance and began to laugh. He didn't know why, but...Kurt was adorable. Spectacularly so. It was...somewhat intriguing.

"What exactly are we doing today?" Rachel asked as she approached the two, pushing herself between them. Kurt found himself rolling his eyes, Blaine biting back a laugh.

"Uh, well, Professor Schue might teach some mathematics or grammar..." Blaine said thoughtfully. "Mrs. Schue sometimes uses the class to give us lessons on etiquette and dancing, but she's with child. So she only gives us lessons once in awhile. And we always spend some time singing. Professor Schue has a right talent for singing. You see, he taught a boy's choir for some time."

"Is that so?" Rachel blinked up to him, twirling her hair around her finger.

"Um...Yes. It is." Blaine nodded, evidently perplexed by this situation. Yes, she was a lovely girl, but...Blaine wasn't really a fan of her looking at him like that.

And though seemingly no one could tell, Kurt wasn't the biggest fan of Rachel right now either. Looking over her head, Kurt shared a strained smile with Blaine, and they continued to walk, listening to Rachel rant on all the way.

* * *

><p>Before too long, they had reached The Schuester's. It was a quaint white house, very put together and old-fashioned. Small fruit trees scattered the lawn, as did many areas in the country, and various flowers were planted in the front garden, giving off a sweet aroma that seemed to lighten the air.<p>

Blaine led the group up to the front door, and placed a hand on the door knocker, the elegant, aged brass lion staring straight back at him. Blaine knocked once, twice, and a third time, before stepping back off the mat to wait.

After only a few moments, the door swung open to reveal a smiling, dignified-looking man. Fair skinned with light brown curls, wearing a casual knit vest over a white shirt and tie. Kurt couldn't help but stare at this man in wonder. By Blaine's description, Kurt imagined the professor to be wise and gray, withered with age. Yet he seemed young and content with life as ever.

"Blaine," Professor Schue chuckled, grabbing Blaine's hand to shake it firmly. "It's been long enough."

"I know, Professor," Blaine apologized.

"I've told him enough times," Mercedes chirped, appearing beside Blaine with a coy smile on her face.

"And Mercedes!" Professor Schue laughed, shaking her hand as well. "Well, that's quite alright. You know I don't demand anything from you other than living to your heart's content. Even if that may be slacking off," he teased, before looking behind Blaine at the group of adolescents on his doorstep. "And I see you've brought friends?"

Blaine nodded, moving aside to refer to the group. "Professor, these are the evacuees we've taken in. Kurt, Rachel, Finn, and Sam," he gestured, respectively.

"Very pleased to meet you all," Professor Schue assured them. "Now, shall we get started on our lesson?" He said, before motioning them into the house. "It's fortunate that you arrived when you did. We were beginning to get impatient," he said as he closed the door.

"We?" Blaine asked, looking slightly worried.

"Yes, Nick, Jeff, Quinn, Santana, Brittany, and of course myself and Emma," the professor nodded, leading them through the house.

Blaine groaned into his hands. This was definitely not what he needed right now.

"Here's the living room," Professor Schue pointed out for the newcomers. "The kitchen. The lavatory. Guest room, closet-" he paused as he began to climb the stairs, the other trailing behind.

"Up here is another loo, my bedroom, and that's the room we use for our study," he pointed at a closed door. "Any questions?"

"Sir?" Rachel piped up.

"Yes?"

"Where do those stairs go?" Rachel asked, pointing to a flight of stairs at the far end of the hall.

"Ah," Professor Schue began. He took a step closer to the students, lowering his voice just slightly. "You are now living a very complicated part of your life during very complicated times in our world. That, my children," he pointed to the stairs, "leads to the attic. If you ever want to talk in private or even just escape our cluttered world for awhile, you need only ask to use the attic, and I will gladly let you have some time there."

The "children" looked up at the professor in a mix of amazement and gratitude, to which he just smiled in response. "Alright then," he began, clapping his hands together, "shall we begin our lesson?"

He turned to open the door to the study when the door swung open, causing the Professor to stumble at the sudden loss of support from the doorknob.

"Blaine! Mercedes!" Asked Jeff, peeking his capped-head out of the doorway.

"And Kurt!" Said Nick, pushing Jeff aside in order to be seen by the others.

"We thought we heard you!"

"About time, too! It's nearly lunch!" Nick exclaimed.

"Aye, who's this, then?" Jeff asked, gesturing to the Rachel, Finn, and Sam.

"They're new as well, aye?"

"They could join us for lunch!"

"I could do with a spot of lunch, eh, Professor?" Nick elbowed Professor Schue with a grin.

The Professor grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the two. "Come on in everyone," he gestured them into the room, which had blue walls and shelves of books along one wall. In one corner of the room was a stack of pillows to sit on, and at the front of the room was a chalkboard, a pile of slates, and a bucket of chalk to write with.

Blaine walked into the familiar room with deep anxiety. For, standing there next to the bookshelf, examining the literature inhabiting it, was a lovely girl with fair skin and hair, eyes green as willows of the country, and delicate pink lips that were probably treasured by many.

And yet...Blaine didn't feel a thing.

Yes, he'd tried. Especially over the past year, Blaine had genuinely tried his hardest to love Quinn. But...something just wasn't there.

Quinn suddenly peered up from her book, smile forming onto her face. "Blaine!" She squealed, jumping over and hugging him with delight. "Sit with me," she insisted as they broke apart, despite Blaine's masked look of distaste.

Kurt watched as the lovely girl pulled Blaine down onto a pillow, next to two other pretty girls: a blonde one, who held a small doll and was tying up its hair with a ribbon, and a darker-skinned girl, with jet-black hair and bored expression on her face as she stared at the floor in front of her.

"Brittany, Santana, Quinn, Nick, and Jeff, meet Rachel, Finn, Kurt, and Sam," Professor Schue gestured to the new faces. Nick and Jeff were already waving furiously as Santana looked up from the floor, as did Brittany from her doll and Quinn from Blaine.

"Hi," Santana muttered, uninterest evident in her voice.

"Hiya," Brittany smiled, blinking up at them.

Quinn smiled almost coldly at the newcomers. "Hello."

Both Finn and Sam seemed to be stunned at these new faces, which came as no surprise to Nick, Jeff, and Mercedes, who snickered at the sight.

Kurt felt shy and unsure again in this new space, when he caught Blaine's eye. The boy smiled warmly and offered for Kurt to sit next to him. Returning the smile, Kurt followed the others to grab a pillow and place it on the floor next to Blaine. After everyone was situated, Professor Schue stood up next to the board.

"Alright, today on the lesson plan, some..." he paused to write on the board, "...history."

Jeff and Nick groaned loudly, pretending to bash their heads in with their slates.

"Oh, come off it now, history is very interesting," the professor insisted, only making the boys snort in distaste. Professor Schue bit back a scowl, and continued on with his lesson. "Alright, now does anyone know our national anthem? 'God Save The King?'"

Kurt shot his hand up proudly. Though the school he went to was complete rubbish, his mother was an educated woman, eager to teach Kurt all she knew.

"Ah, Kurt? Are you familiar with all the lyrics?"

Kurt nodded, beaming up at the professor.

"...Would you mind sharing with us?" He asked.

Kurt suddenly seemed hesitant, not sure if he was prepared to sing in front of all these new people. Yes, he sang a lot at home. But when his father left to serve, the house was unsettlingly empty, and music didn't really float around as much.

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, who gave him a reassuring smile.

And, Lord, Kurt didn't know why, but he knew he had to do it then. For that smile.

"Alright," he nodded, getting up to step over to where the professor stood. He faced the group, taking in a deep breath. Blaine shot him one more smile, which Kurt just couldn't deny any longer. Taking in a deeper breath, he opened his mouth to sing.

**_God save our gracious King,_**

**_Long live our noble King,_**

**_God save the King:_**

Blaine's smile drifted off his face, and was replaced by a gasp. He'd never heard someone sing like that, especially the national anthem. Kurt sang with deep emotion, letting the unusually high notes gently float from his lips.

**_Send him victorious,_**

**_Happy and glorious,_**

**_Long to reign over us:_**

**_God save the King._**

Kurt paused for a moment to glance nervously at Professor Schue, who motioned for him to continue.

**_O Lord, our God, arise,_**

**_Scatter his enemies,_**

**_And make them fall._**

**_Confound their politics,_**

**_Frustrate their knavish tricks,_**

**_On Thee our hopes we fix,_**

**_God save us all..._**

Blaine was in awe. Never had he ever heard something as breathtaking as Kurt's voice, and never had he been so amazed by someone before. He longed to hug Kurt, to hold him, to break down into tears in his arms, though he had not a clue why.

So he sat there, staring at this beauty before him right through the song.

**_...To sing with heart and voice_**

**_God save the King._**

Applause broke out in the room, and Blaine snapped out of his trance, clapping and smiling along.

Though he was sure he'd never felt so intimidated in his life.

"Kurt!" Professor Schue smiled, walking over to shake Kurt's hand. "That was brilliant! You have a remarkable voice!"

Kurt blushed. "Thank you, Professor. I love to sing."

"Well then you'll love the choir lessons we have!" The professor chuckled, patting Kurt's back firmly before walking back over to the board and rolling the chalk between his fingers. Kurt shuffled back over to where he was seated next to Blaine.

"I wasn't complete rubbish, was I?" Kurt asked him, slight smirk evident on his face.

Blaine turned to him, and damn, there were those powerful blue eyes again. "Uh...yeah. I mean, no- wait..." Blaine took a moment to compose himself. "Kurt, you sing beautifully. Really. I'm amazed," he smiled.

Kurt blushed back, knowingly more flattered than he should be from this compliment. "Thank you, Blaine."

"Anytime," Blaine said. Kurt nodded once more before directing his attention towards the chalkboard, leaving Blaine sighing in relief. Why did he find Kurt so fascinating? What was this funny feeling building up in his chest, making the room way too hot for his taste?

Blaine shook his head, trying to focus on whatever the professor was scribbling on the chalkboard, but found it nearly impossible when he could practically feel Kurt's piercing blue eyes looking right through him.

* * *

><p>"...And that's why, in 1812..."<p>

The professor droned on with his lesson, when he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, which drew everyone's attention toward it.

Professor Schue rolled his eyes, already annoyed enough by Nick and Jeff's antics. "Yes?" He sighed, looking up from his history book. "Come in."

The ancient oak panel creaked open to reveal a woman with firey red hair and big, bright brown eyes. She wore a yellow dress that had a shapely bump halfway down her body, which she rubbed profusely.

"Emma," the Professor breathed, his face lighting up at the sight of this woman. Kurt could tell immediately that she was his wife, just by the way he looked at her. It made Kurt smile, how two people could love another so much.

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything's just fine, Will," Mrs. Schue assured her husband. "I just wanted to remind you to release the children before too late."

"Oh Lord, what time is it?" Professor Schue asked, pulling out his pocket watch. "Cor! It's nearly two! Thank you dearest!"

"Of course." Mrs. Schue smiled, closing the door behind her as she made her way back down the hall.

"Oh, my momma wanted us to be home by two-fifteen to help with chores!" Mercedes gasped to Rachel.

"Go ahead, Mercedes. You won't be late if you leave right now. Thank you for coming today."

"Of course, thank you Professor," Mercedes said, getting up to put away her slate and chalk.

Rachel followed suit. "Are you coming too?" She asked the boys.

Sam just nodded, keeping his head down as he got up.

"Uh...yeah, sure," Finn agreed. And soon after, the four were out the door, leaving Kurt sitting quietly by himself as Quinn continued to fawn over Blaine. Nick and Jeff were keeping themselves busy with Santana and Brittany, drawing scribbles all over their slates.

"Well..." Professor Schue smiled awkwardly. "Class dismissed!"

Nick and Jeff grinned broadly, leaping up to put all their stuff away. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany did the same, all making their way out the door as quickly as possible, calling goodbyes and thank yous as they left.

"We'd love to stay, really!" Nick insisted as he ran out.

"But mum just harvested the last of the cherries, and cherry pie doesn't last all day!" Jeff shrugged, tipping his cap at the Professor.

Blaine got up, stretching his legs and loving the sudden spark of freedom Quinn's absence had just provided. Smiling slightly, he looked down at Kurt, who was still sitting on his pillow, near falling asleep from sheer boredom. Frankly, he looked too adorable to disturb. But Blaine really didn't want to risk a lecture about climate and whatnot from Professor Schue, so he figured they'd better leave soon.

"Y'alright?" Blaine asked Kurt.

Kurt jerked his head up at Blaine's voice, his bright smile instantly taking Kurt from his drowsiness.

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm alright," Kurt dazedly insisted. He yawned, and Blaine couldn't help but smile even more from how cute it was. "Here, I'll take your slate," Blaine said, reaching for Kurt's slate and chalk in his lap.

"Oh no, it's alright, I can-" Kurt began, not wanting to seem spoiled.

"-No, I insist," Blaine said, taking the slates under his arm.

Kurt smiled, getting up to brush himself off. "Thank you."

"But of course," Blaine returned the smile, walking over to the front of the room to put their things away. When he returned, the two bid their goodbyes to the Professor, and made their way out, JUST missing an exciting tale of how the geese migrate.

* * *

><p>Blaine lead Kurt out the door of the Schuester's house, stretching his arms out as he stepped into the crisp air. Kurt just grumbled sleepily behind him.<p>

"Ugh," Kurt groaned.

"Hm?" Blaine asked.

"Walking," he returned, rolling his eyes about.

"...Hm?" Blaine repeated. "What about it?"

" 'S rubbish," Kurt muttered, crossing his arms. "It's not fun."

"Don't you walk much at home?" Blaine asked.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut, staring only in front of him.

Blaine let his head hang. He figured Kurt must be getting homesick again. God, why was he so dumb when it came to this? And why did he feel so horrid whenever he thought Kurt to be sad?

Blaine was mentally cursing himself right now, and he didn't even know why. It wasn't that big of a deal, right?

But it felt like it was...

Unable to think of any way out, Blaine pasted a smile on his face. "Hey." Kurt looked up. "You know what's better than walking?"

Kurt rolled his eyes again. God, he was good at that. "What?"

"Running!" Blaine grinned, breaking into a run down the path.

"H-hey! Why're you running?" Kurt yelled.

"Ha! Why aren't you?" Blaine called back.

Kurt furrowed his brow, watching Blaine's diminishing figure. He didn't like to run. Whenever he ran at home, he always ended up tripping over debris, or stepping in a puddle or something.

When Blaine was about 30 yards ahead, stopped in his tracks and turned back to Kurt. "Well?" He asked, breathlessly.

Kurt's mouth was gaping open. The fact that something as simple as running could bring a smile on Blaine face was...adorable. It made Kurt want to smile. In fact, being with Blaine was just about the only thing that made Kurt forget about London, and the bombs, and the horror.

Kurt fixed his composure and smirked back, deciding to give in. He ran straight towards Blaine, who flashed a grin before running ahead. Blaine was ahead of Kurt already, but he was also out of breath. Kurt had longer legs than Blaine, which were kicking up dust like nobody's business. Before long, Kurt and Blaine were running parallel to one another.

Kurt didn't remember the last time he'd felt this...alive. Running as fast as his legs could carry, breathing in the strange mixture of fresh air and kicked-up dirt, with Blaine...he felt like he was...falling. Slowly. No, floating.

The boys were neck and neck now, occasionally glancing a smile at each other. They sped on, when Blaine's house came into sight. Kurt found the last bit of energy he had in him, and pulled in front of Blaine, planting himself on the lawn. He turned, about to gloat about his winning, when Blaine ran into him, knocking them both onto the soft, green grass.

"Ow!" Kurt exclaimed, though laughing. "Watch it!"

Blaine just laughed along, nuzzling his face into the grass. He and Kurt stared at each other for quite some time, catching their breath.

"Y'know..." Blaine began. "You've got really pretty eyes."

Kurt blinked alertly, feeling his insides quake. "R-really?"

Blaine nodded with a smile. "Really."

Kurt blushed, partially from the compliment and partially from whatever he was feeling right now.

"Well..." He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Blaine."

Blaine just smiled, loving the feeling of this moment he was in right now, and how it felt so right, as if nothing could ever ruin anything.

* * *

><p>Evelyn Anderson was pleased with her painting. It was of her son, Blaine. She was so proud of him, he was the perfect son. Musically inclined, polite, attractive.<p>

She gave a satisfied sigh before placing her paints and brushes aside. Dinner was to start soon, and she had to clean up around the dining room.

Evelyn stepped out of her art room, and glanced around the house to see what was happening. Rachel, that lovely, bright girl was in the kitchen, helping Mercedes and Agnes with dinner. She was smiling and seemed to be enjoying herself.

Peering around some more, Evelyn noticed Finn and Sam listening to the radio. Finn was messing around with the dials, trying to strengthen the signal, with no luck. Sam stayed seated on the floor, a smile curving on his lips from Finn's goofy being.

Eve smiled to herself. Everyone seemed to be adjusting well enough.

"Finn, Sam?" She caught their attention, making Finn jerk his head around.

"Erm, sorry Mrs. Anderson," He murmured, backing away from the radio. "I promise, we were only trying to get a signal, I-"

"-That's quite alright, boys," Eve insisted, holding back a smile. "Would you boys mind helping the ladies and I set up for dinner?"

"O-oh, no, of course not," Finn nodded.

"It would be our pleasure," Sam agreed, getting up from where he was seated on the floor.

Eve smiled graciously as they moved past her into the kitchen. "Oh, Sam!" she asked before they disappeared into the next room.

"Hm?" Sam answered.

"Have you seen Blaine and Kurt?"

"Uh..." Sam began. "They should be here by now...they were a little behind us."

"I think I saw them coming down the path earlier," Finn said.

Eve smiled. They were probably sitting outside. "Of course, thank you."

"Anytime," Finn smiled.

Eve smiled back before making her way towards the door. She opened it, and was about to call out Blaine's name, when she saw her son.

And Kurt.

Lying down on the grass next to each other.

Actually...Kurt was lying on his back, and Blaine was on his stomach next to him, one leg overlapping Kurt's. One of Blaine's arms rested on Kurt's chest, and they were staring into each other's eyes, smiling and talking softly to one another. Every once in awhile one of them would give a breathy laugh, but they never broke eye contact.

Evelyn gulped, softly closing the door and leaning against it.

This could not be happening. It wasn't, was it? These boys had hardly known each other, there's no chance that her son was...

She took a deep breath. No, she was just overreacting. Her son wasn't...

A fag.

She took a moment to collect herself, shaking her head. Right, she was overreacting. Kurt was just a very nice boy, and Blaine was a comfort to him.

But...maybe he was little...confused.

Eve pushed back the curtains and took one last glance out the window.

He looked so happy. Happier than he had all summer. She hadn't seen him smile that wide in some time.

Eve felt herself smile. She did want her son to be happy, of course. That's only what every good mother wants. But it was a scary, cruel world out there, and she only wanted what was best for her son.

She closed the curtains and stepped away from the window. Maybe she should leave Blaine alone, give him some space.

Or maybe...

She walked into her art room, glancing once again at her lovely painting, before moving to the telephone. She picked it up and waited for a moment before speaking to the operator:

"Can I get The Fabrays at Woodbridge 262?"

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooh...<strong>


	4. Throwing Stones

**GAH! Chapter 4! **

**Alright, before you read, I just wanna note a thing or two. **

**I wrote most of the last third of this late at night, after a very angst/work/sklfjdfgkerljri-filled day, so typos or just completely idiotic mistakes are all my fault and my fault only. It hasn't been edited by a second person either, so any repetitions or discontinuity are also my doing. Gah I JUST REALLY WANTED TO UPDATE, OKAY? I will gladly take any kind suggestions you have! And don't be surprised if you re-read this and see some changes...I may or may not make them...minor details of course, but still.**

**By the way, I changed my Pen name from "RPCaruso" back to "Roozmahree." It just felt more me. And it's my Tumblr url! *hint hint* **

**Enjoy! Oh, and THANK YOU EVERYONE! 17 reviews already? And they're all so sweet, you guys are perfect.**

* * *

><p>Quinn looked herself up and down in the mirror. She was perfect. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect figure. Just perfect.<p>

Except...

She glared at herself in the mirror. "Mother!" She screamed.

Mrs. Fabray made her way upstairs as quick as she could, almost tripping on her dress. "What is it, Quinny?"

Quinn turned around to face her mother, anger still evident on her face. She pointed to the problem near her right hip.

"There...Is a loose thread on this dress, Mother." Quinn muttered through clenched teeth.

A look of realization swept over Mrs. Fabray's face, and she messed with her apron pocket to retrieve a pair of scissors, diving to clip the pesky thread on the dress.

Quinn smiled, straightening her dress in the mirror. The fabric was from France, or Spain, or somewhere like that, bronze and violet in an intricate pattern.

"Oh, Quinny..." Her mother stood, rubbing her daughter's shoulders. "You look beautiful."

Quinn nodded, leaning into her mother's touch.

"Now, remember what I told you," Mrs. Fabray continued. "Evelyn didn't specify, but she said that Blaine's feeling somewhat...confused, and introverted." She leaned in closer to her daughter's face and brought her voice down to a whisper. "_You can change that, now can't you_?"

Quinn smirked at herself in the mirror. Yes, she could tell something was up with Blaine. He'd become distant during the past few months, staying inside and playing guitar or reading all day. Silly things like that. Only when Blaine was with that new boy, Kurt or something, he seemed really happy. Because, though it was fantastic that he have friends, Blaine was nearly 18, and the rest of his life was approaching fast. What he really should be focusing on is his future, and who he's going to spend it with.

Mrs. Fabray looked at her daughter questioningly. "Quinn?"

Quinn broke out of her thoughts, and smiled warmly to her mother through the mirror. Of course she could fix Blaine. "Yes, Mother."

* * *

><p><em>Dear mother, <em>

_How have you been? I do hope things are well. How is the weather in London? It's lovely here, the leaves are golden and red and I really wish you could see it, the colors match that dress of yours you fancy so well. And you could wear it and dance in the field like we do, and pretend you were as free as one of those leaves, just ready for the wind to take it away. _

_I miss you, mum. I miss your smile, the way you hold me as if I were a child again. Things are rather lovely here, though, really. Though it's only been a little over a week, this house is really beginning to feel like a home. I've made new friends. Mostly Blaine. He's the son of the Andersons. He's a real catch, we spend all our time together. Everyday we mess about, going to the lake or running around with these two clever blokes he lives by. I wish you could meet him, I know you'd like him. He's got dark hair and lovely brown-green eyes. In all honesty, I'm not sure if I've ever met anyone as handsome as he is. _

_Anyaway, I must be going now. We have lessons at noon, and if we're late again, Professor Schue might make us write on our slates again! _

_I love you, and miss you every day, mother. _

_Sincerely,_

_Kurt_

* * *

><p>"Have you ever had a bird before?"<p>

Kurt looked up from where he and Blaine sat in the grass. After two weeks of Kurt living with the Andersons, this particular area on the bank seemed to be their default spot of relaxation.

Kurt studied Blaine's expression before conjuring his answer. "Uh...no. I'm afraid no one had really caught my eye yet. Have you?"

Blaine shook his head, eyes trained on the sparkling water below. "Not really..."

Kurt nodded to himself, before bringing his eyes back up to look at the scenery.

"I mean-" Blaine started again, getting Kurt's attention. "-have you ever _really_ fancied a girl?"

Kurt took a moment to think about this. Girls were weird. He _was_ quite fond of his mother, but he could never see himself actually being _with_ a girl, it just seemed so...weird.

"I'm...not sure about that one..." He answered slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I-" Blaine said, obviously having trouble with his words. "Do- ugh...do you think I fancy Quinn?"

At this, Kurt couldn't help but let out a stifled laugh.

"Hey!" Blaine said, trying hard to keep stern as he smacked Kurt lightly up the back of his head. "I'm quite serious now!"

"I'm sorry..." Kurt said, attempting to catch his breath. "It's just..."

"What?"

"Well, to be frank, you seem rather in pain whenever you're around her," Kurt said matter-of-factly.

Though Blaine was still in all seriousness in his question, he found himself smiling along with Kurt.

"Not to mention..." Kurt began again, picking up a rock next to him and rolling it over in his fingers. "I don't really think anyone can _tell _you who you fancy...and...I don't really think _you_ can tell who you fancy..." He looked up to meet Blaine's eyes, a look of confusion plastered on his face. Kurt attempted to elaborate. "I suppose...if you really _do_ fancy someone...you just know." He ended with a shrug. Thinking he'd said something wrong, Kurt looked up to meet Blaine's eyes, said boy grinning broadly.

"For someone who's never had a girl before, you seem to know your stuff, Kurt."

Kurt blushed. "I just follow my instincts, I suppose." He flashed Blaine another smile before he stood up, rock still in hand, and walked over to the edge of the river. Giving the stone a curious look, Kurt threw it with all his might towards the water as he'd so often seen Blaine do, only to watch it plummet beneath the surface.

He stood there for a moment, before he heard a chuckle behind him.

"You can't just bung it over, you know."

Before Kurt could react, he felt Blaine's presence behind him, strong arms wrapping warmly around his own quaking ones. Kurt inhaled slowly as Blaine's hand snaked over to his own, dropping a flat stone into his palm. Kurt turned his head to Blaine, taking in the gentle smile this dark-haired boy was yielding.

"Now," Blaine cleared his throat, his voice unusually high. "it's really all in the wrist. Just hold it like this..." He messed with the stone in Kurt's fingers, "And you have to be quick about it. You're awfully tense, relax."

Kurt nodded absently, letting out the breath he'd been holding, and allowing himself to relax into Blaine's hold.

Blaine cleared his throat again, trying as hard as he could to keep his composure. "N-now just bring your arm back, and throw hard while flicking your wrist. Ready?"

Kurt nodded fast, still distracted by Blaine's hold.

Blaine nodded too, bringing Kurt's arm back. "One...two...three!"

And with that, Blaine guided Kurt's arm in a quick, swift movement, watching the stone soar for a moment before it skipped three times across the water.

A smile grew on both their faces, and Kurt began to jump up and down in excitement. "I did it, Blaine! I did it!"

Blaine just smiled as he held the boy. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

Kurt looked up to Blaine, taking in the boy's awed expression. "T-thank you, Blaine."

And then Blaine found himself looking at Kurt's lips. They looked pink and soft, and...somewhat...inviting. Blaine could feel his heart beating. Kurt probably could too, as his back was still pressed against Blaine's chest. He could feel butterflies in his ears, and the world seemed to quiet down around them.

Kurt turned himself around to face Blaine full on, his mouth just slightly parted and quivering. Blaine took in a deep breath, letting his eyes fall closed.

"...Blaine?"

The two startled, and looked up to see Quinn, clad in a lovely violet and bronze dress. She was smiling, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She was definitely...holding something back.

"Uh..." Blaine let out, quickly parting away from Kurt, immediately feeling empty as he did it. "H-hi, Quinn."

Quinn grinned broader, running straight up to Blaine and throwing her arms around him. The startled boy stumbled at first, but then wrapped his arms around Quinn.

Quinn smiled and broke apart, keeping her hands rested on Blaine shoulders. "What're you doing, Blaine?" She asked innocently, tilting her head to the side.

"Um..." Blaine stammered, glancing quickly at Kurt, who seemed to be having the same confusion the subject. "N-nothing. Just bummin' around with Kurt here," he smiled nervously.

Quinn turned her head to address Kurt, wearing that same innocent smile. "Kurt, do you mind if I steal Blaine for a bit?"

_Yes,_ Kurt's mind shouted.

"N-no," Kurt muttered, pasting an obviously strained smile onto his face.

Blaine looked perplexed, attempting to read the expressions on the faces of these two. Before long, Quinn smiles back.

"Good." She turned to look at Blaine, reaching a hand up to stroke at his straying hair. "We should be home before supper. And if we're not, just tell Mrs. Anderson that he's with Quinn."

"O-okay," Kurt nodded.

Quinn shot him a smile. "Thanks, Kurt. Come on, Blaine," the girl began to walk down the path.

"Uh..." Blaine said. "Of course." He shot Kurt a sorry smile before turning over to Quinn.

As their figures retreated, Blaine waved at Kurt, before Quinn held out her hand to his. Blaine seemed confused for a moment, before slipping his hand into Quinn's, giving her an awkward smile.

"So," she began, trying to come up with a conversation, "what would you like to do?"

Blaine shrugged, keeping his focus straight ahead of him. "Don't know."

"Where would you like to go?" She asked, beginning to swing their arms back and forth.

Blaine just shrugged again. "I'm easy."

"Blaine-" Quinn said, studying his blank expression. "Is anything the matter? What's on your mind?"

Blaine gulped. _What's on my mind? How Kurt's hand would fit nicer in mine than yours does. How I rather like the blue of his eyes as to yours of green. How...I feel as if I could have kissed him, not five minutes ago..._

_How the thought of kissing him is exciting me beyond belief right now. How holding him just now felt like the most perfect thing in the world. _

_And yet...I haven't a clue why. _

"Blaine?" Quinn repeated.

Blaine snapped out of his thoughts, focusing on the girl as best he could. "Nothing, I assure you," he smiled.

Quinn smiled back, leaning into his arm and making him wince. Why didn't he want this? Why did he feel so uncomfortable right now, with this girl on his arm? Why was he sure that Quinn _definitely_ was _not_ what he wanted?

* * *

><p>Kurt watched the two retreating figures for a moment, before he lowered the hand he was waving. He watched the two until his eyes couldn't adjust further, and made his way back to the riverbank where he and Blaine were sitting.<p>

He sat, trying to decipher his thoughts. He felt as if his heart was shoved to his throat. His body was shaking. He felt a sharp twinge in the pit of his stomach, before feeling the same thing in his eyes. Inhaling a sharp breath, Kurt felt the tears well up. He let them fall freely into the grass below him.

Why was he so displeased by Quinn? Why did he miss Blaine so much? Why did he feel like just crying for days? Why was it that, when Blaine broke apart from him, he'd felt colder than he ever had since he left his mother at the train station?

Kurt just sat there, his knees tucked into his chest and arms wrapped around them.

_Why did he feel as if it should be _him_ on Blaine's arm right now_?

"Kurt?"

Kurt, startled, jerked his head up and abruptly turned around to see none other than Professor Schuester, clad in a tan shirt, a soft brown vest and slacks.

"Uh," Kurt sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as he stood. "P-professor, good afternoon."

Will Schuester looked concerned, taking a step closer to Kurt. "I was just out for a nice walk, and I saw you crying...Y'alright there?"

Kurt nodded slowly, before realizing that _no, _he was _not_ alright, and let the tears fall.

Professor Schue tilted his head in concern. "Kurt, what's the matter?"

Kurt swallowed. He couldn't tell Professor Schue what was wrong. He couldn't tell _himself_ what was wrong. In all honesty, he really wasn't sure what was even wrong in the first place.

So he lied.

"I-I know it's dumb, but...I really miss my mum. T-terribly."

Alright, so maybe it was a _half-truth. _Kurt really _did_ miss his mother, terribly.

Professor Schue gave a genuine smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

_Yes_.

"Y-yeah," Kurt nodded, steadying his breathing. "Sure."

Professor Schue smiled before walking down the path, gesturing for Kurt to follow after.

"So Kurt," The Professor began, walking with his hands in his pockets. "Tell me about yourself."

Kurt stared at the road in front of him. "There's not much to know." He mumbled.

"Really?"

Kurt nodded.

"Because it seems to me," the Professor continued, eyes also fixed in front of him, "that you have much to tell, whether you feel like you want to or not." Kurt stayed silent.

"Perhaps..." Will continued thoughtfully, "you could tell me of your home? Have you any brothers or sisters?"

Kurt took in a sharp breath. Though his mother had tried many times before and after Kurt was born, she couldn't have more children.

"No."

"Ah." The Professor seemed to understand. "...You must think we all seem so horribly dreadful, don't you?"

Kurt looked at Professor Schue, almost as if to deny him. But the man just chuckled. "Yes, I understand," he began as they approached the front gate of the Schuester's house. "You think that we wealthy, sheltered, spoiled folk could never even begin to understand the perils you've been through and what you're going through right now, hm?"

Though he felt ashamed to admit it, Kurt let his head hang and gave the lightest of shrugs.

Will chuckled as he stepped up to the door, placing his hand on the gold doorknob. "Well, not _all_ of us have been this well off all our lives."

Kurt raised his head. "What?"

The Professor just smiled again. "Let's just say I understand how you feel. You feel hopeless, weak, childish, scared." He leaned in closer to Kurt, lowering his voice. "And that's perfectly alright. But it's not alright to keep your feelings bottled up. So if you ever feel like it, you can trust I will do my best to listen and help you. Alright?"

Kurt found himself smiling, and Will grinned back. "Right. Now, come in and we'll have a cup of tea."

Kurt nodded, and followed the Professor into his house. They entered the kitchen, and Kurt sat down in one of the chairs.

"Now, would you care for milk?" Will asked as he began to spoon some leaves into the pot.

Kurt was about to reply, when quick, hurried footsteps came from down the hall.

"E-Emma!" Will rushed over to his wife as she appeared in the doorway. "Are you alright? Is the baby-"

"Will!" She shushed her husband, smiling slightly. "I'm fine. We-" she grabbed Will's hand to rub her stomach, "-are fine."

The Professor let out a sigh of relief, rubbing his forehead with his spare hand. "I'm sorry Em, I just-"

"-It's fine," Emma assured her husband. "Really. Oh, hello...Kurt?" She tried, noticing the young man in her kitchen.

"Yes, good afternoon Mrs. Schuester," Kurt smiled at the Professor's almost radiant wife.

"Good afternoon to you too," she smiled back. "Oh and Will, I just came over to tell you that Sam came in earlier this afternoon and wanted to use the attic, so I permitted him use."

Will looked worried for a moment, but covered it up. "Oh, thank you darling," Will beamed at his wife, before kissing her forehead.

Emma grinned at them both one last time, before returning to her room. Will watched her leave for a moment, before turning to Kurt. "Do you mind if we skip the tea and go straight to the attic?"

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Of course, but...why?"

Will looked contemplative, before answering. "I feel as if this will quench your thirst better. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Kurt still felt very confused, but he _was _in need of sorting out his feelings, and tea was sure to not make a bloody difference. "Y-yeah, sure."

Will smiled graciously, and lead them both upstairs.

* * *

><p>Kurt followed the Professor up to the third floor, which had the narrowest staircase leading up to the attic. Once they'd reached the small room, the first thing Kurt noticed was the lovely stained-glass window against the far wall, the high sun being one of the only sources of light in the room, besides a few kerosene lamps scattered on the coffee tables and bookshelf or two Kurt noticed about the area. Though it was small and somewhat dusty, the whole ambiance of the room was somewhat...nostalgic and melancholy, yet just as peaceful as the bank where he and Blaine had sat on his first day in the country.<p>

The second thing Kurt noticed was the boy with the unkempt blonde hair, sobbing quietly in the middle of the room, facing the lovely stained-glass image. His hands were in position as if he were praying, but he obviously was having trouble focusing. Professor Schue began to rub his shoulders, shushing his hiccups. Kurt met Will's eye, who gestured for Kurt to come over. Once Sam's sobs quieted down, the Professor spoke, in a hushed voice.

"So, Sam...Why have you come here today?"

Sam took a few more steadying breaths before choking out his answer. "I-I...I miss them...I don't know why it won't stop hurting...I get these pains in my stomach, my throat feels all...fluttery, and...I've tried not to, I know I shouldn't care so much, I know I'm supposed to grow up, but I can't...I-I can't..._I feel so a-ashamed_..."

Will shushed the boy and hugged him, as he began to cry again. Kurt looked on with deep intent.

"Sam...Sam, listen to me..." Will urged him. "Do you know why it hurts so much?" Sam gave a half-hearted shrug. "It hurts you so much because you love them, Sam. Don't you?" Sam nodded profusely, and Will turned just slightly so he could face him full on.

"And you know what else?" Will said. "There's nothing wrong with that. I know they told you to stay strong and grow up, but this-" he placed a fist to his heart, "-this overrules that. Love overrules all fear. Don't feel ashamed that you love them. Love hurts sometimes, and sometimes it might feel unneeded or wrong. But love is never wrong, Sam. Don't you _ever_ be ashamed to love, especially if it feels this strong."

Sam seemed to take all this in, and a small smile began to grow on his face. The tears paused their streaming. "Thank you, Professor."

Professor Schue grinned back and stood on his feet. "Now, would you boys care for some tea?"

Sam thought for a moment before nodding lightly, allowing the Professor to pull him to his feet.

"And you, Kurt?" Will inquired to the boy still seated on the floor. "Will you be coming as well?"

"Um..." Kurt muttered. "Actually, Professor...I think you were right... Could I stay up here for awhile? I'd also like to...pray a bit."

The Professor smiled knowingly. "Whatever pleases you. Take your time."

Kurt smiled graciously as the two figured retreated down the narrow stairs. Once Kurt had heard the door close shut behind them, his face fell into his hands, and his breathing became shaky.

Now he knew. He knew what was wrong. From watching Sam's emotions spill out, he could evaluate his own. Seeing Blaine with Quinn hurt him so much, not because Quinn was a bad girl, but because he knew he'd miss Blaine...

Because...

He_ loved _Blaine_..._

Kurt couldn't think. He had to concentrate on his breathing, or else he was sure he'd forget to exhale. He sobbed and sobbed, but the tears didn't come. He felt a warmth he'd never felt before, a blossoming inside his chest that just made him want to smile and cry at both the same time. But at the same time, he felt numb and frail, like the day he left his mother at the station. He knew it was possible, for two blokes to fall in love, but...he'd heard it to be wrong, and impossible.

Though...The Professor said himself...love is never wrong.

And _ugh_, what was _wrong with him?_ Kurt stood to his feet, grabbing his hair in fists. He was just so _angry_ at it all. He felt like such a child, and he was _sick_ of it already. Why was this so hard for him?

His thoughts going in cirlces, Kurt decided to sit himself upright in the chair against the wall. He clasped his hands together and did what his mother always seemed to do when she had felt horrid...pray.

"Dear God...Please...help me...I don't even know what to do, just...please make it stop...the hurt...please make everything right. And...protect my mum...please. A-amen."

He took another deep breath before pulling himself to his feet. He needed a cup of tea. A cup of tea sounded rather good right now. Maybe he could talk to that Sam bloke. He seemed to understand what Kurt was feeling right now. Or at least, the gist of his sadness. No one could fully understand him, _ever._ Because though Quinn definitely had something for Blaine, she could never feel how Kurt felt right now. Happy, sad, angry, scared, excited...

...In love.

* * *

><p>"Well, I had fun today! Didn't you, Blaine?" Quinn asked as Blaine walked her up the steps to her house. She turned to look at the distracted boy, who seemed to be almost studying the river in the distance. "Blaine?"<p>

Blaine snapped out of his trance, quite reluctantly. It was that time of day where the sun was at its lowest, and the tense yellow-orange glow it produced made the river into the loveliest shade of blue, and it didn't last long. "Uh, yes, Quinn?"

"Didn't you have fun today? Just you and me, spending time together?" Quinn tried again, taking both of Blaine's hands in hers and smiling eagerly.

"Uh..." Blaine forced on a smile and gave Quinn's hands a squeeze before releasing them. "Yes, of course."

But Blaine was lying. Sure, Quinn could be funny, and it reminded him of simpler times when a younger Blaine and Quinn would skip along the fields, collecting daisies and clovers for their mothers. But...They weren't picking flowers now. In fact, being with Quinn now was almost...uncomfortable. The way she would try and hold his hand and sit really close to him. He needed room to breath, sod it!

But perhaps the most confusing part of it all was how Blaine tried and tried to respond, tried to feel how he knew he was supposed to. But...Quinn's eyes, though a spectacular green, just didn't match to the clear blue of Kurt's, her voice not nearly as soothing, her lips not as...fascinating. Blaine studied their rosy-pink tone, yet felt not _nearly_ as much desire to know them as he did Kurt's.

And..._Kurt_... Blaine couldn't get Kurt off his mind. Whenever Quinn said something endearing, Blaine couldn't help but filter it as Kurt's sweet voice. And though it confused him beyond belief, Blaine didn't dislike it in the least. In fact...he really liked to think of Kurt like that, for some odd reason...

"Well," Quinn interrupted Blaine's thoughts, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I guess it's time to say goodnight."

"Uh...yeah..." Blaine nodded. "I suppose so."

Quinn then let her eyes stray around his face, before placing both hands on his shoulders. Before Blaine could react, Quinn had risen up on her toes and placed a kiss on Blaine's cheek, just barely on the corner of his mouth.

When they parted, Quinn looked quite sure of herself, while Blaine had some strange, gaping stare on his face, that he quickly covered with an awkward smile.

Quinn smiled and said, "I'll see you later, Blaine," before turning to head inside her house.

Blaine stood there for a moment before mumbling, "uh...yeah...later..." And turning to make his own way down the porch.

_That was...weird..._

He'd almost made the turn onto the main road, when a couple of strange creatures pounced on him.

"BLAINE! WE SAW WHAT HAPPENED!" One of them said as they hugged Blaine's shoulders.

"YOU LUCKY BUGGER, YOU!" The other added, also practically smothering the boy.

"Nick, ge- _Jeff_!" Blaine shouted over their excitement.

Nick and Jeff both pulled themselves off Blaine, smiles still plaguing their expressions.

"Well?" Nick persisted.

"How was it?" Jeff backed him up.

"Did you see heaven?"

"Or the moon?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Jeff, that's rubbish, why would he see the moon?"

Jeff shrugged. "I dunno! The moon's all romantic, right?"

"How? It's only a glowing spot in the sky. And the moon's not even out yet, it's still light!"

"Alright, maybe the moon's _not_ romantic. Did you see roses?"

"_Roses_?" Nick asked increduously.

"Roses are romantic!" Jeff insisted. "Girls like roses!"

"But _why_ would he-"

"-Nick! Jeff!" Blaine interjected before they began to really argue. "Really, there's not need for any of this."

"Well?" Nick repeated.

"How was it?" Jeff asked.

Blaine shook his head. "It was nothing. Really. I honestly did not feel a thing."

At this, the two boys gaped at Blaine. "Didn't feel a _thing_?" Jeff insisted.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut. He wasn't too sure what to tell these two.

"I..." He sighed. "For some reason or another, Quinn just isn't really..." Blaine searched his mind for the right thing to say, but found nothing. "You guys are my friends, right?"

The two looked confused for a moment, before replying.

"We're your best pals, Blaine." Jeff nodded furiously.

"Yeah, until we're dead and buried!" Nick agreed.

Blaine sighed, taking a step closer to the two. "See...I just don't feel...what I know I'm supposed to feel for Quinn. Really. I honestly don't know why, but she's just...not attractive to me."

"Why?" Nick blurted in disbelief.

_Because the entire time I wished it was Kurt. _

"Um..." Blaine stumbled. "I'm not sure...don't you ever get the feeling that something just isn't...right?"

Blaine hoped they'd catch on, but the two only burst into laughter.

"Quinn Fabray? _Not_ attractive?_ Not_ right?" Nick made out.

"Blaine, you've got your head up your arse," Jeff laughed, trying to keep still.

"But really," Nick said as he caught his breath, walking over to place a hand on Blaine's shoulder, "you're hallucinating. Of _course_ you feel something for Quinn, it's just...not really time yet, eh? Give it time, and you two will be happy and on your way to be wed!" He finished with a smile.

"Of course," Jeff nodded, moving over to link his arm with Blaine's, the three beginning to walk more down the path, "I mean, believe what you want for now, but you can't deny that Quinn's a golden opportunity you'd hate to miss."

Blaine almost began to protest, but shut himself up before he could start. He couldn't talk to these two about Quinn. They wouldn't understand, to say the least.

As Nick and Jeff babbled on, Blaine continued to question himself. What he and Kurt had talked about earlier that afternoon made complete sense, but...maybe he just wasn't trying hard enough to love Quinn. Shouldn't he want her, since everyone else seemed to? Then again, if he really wanted something, should it really matter what anyone else wants?

* * *

><p>As the front door slammed behind her, Quinn's smile she had perfected for Blaine had run off her face. She angrily stormed up the stairs, up to her room, and slammed the door behind her. She took the pin out of her hair, peeled off the dress, and threw herself down on the plush bed that lay in the corner.<p>

So.

Blaine was a fairy.

Quinn could tell. Though he may not know it himself, Quinn could tell just by the way Blaine looked at Kurt that he was in love with him. It had to be love. Quinn knew what love looked like. It looked like how her father used to look at her mother, before he started drinking. How her older sister looked at her husband on their wedding day. How Quinn, herself, looked at...Blaine.

Quinn dug her face in her pillow, almost screaming in a rage. It wasn't fair. She'd known Blaine for much longer, had loved him longer, had dreamed of being with him longer. Kurt couldn't just waltz in a snatch that away from her. It really was impossible. Yet, that's what seemed to be happening.

She jerked up from the pillow, the gears in her mind turning vigorously.

_So, if Kurt was trying to steal Blaine from Quinn, she'd just have to get to him first. Just because Kurt's ahead now, doesn't mean he'd have to win. _

_And he wouldn't. _

Quinn sat up, smirking slightly, this feeling of competition running through her. _Kurt wouldn't steal Blaine from her. _

_Ever._

* * *

><p>(Reviews make my heart go 'wheeee!')<p>

v


	5. Dwell In Lovers' Eyes

**Chapter 5! **

**Yes, sorry it took so long (again), but school and rehearsals and yeah. So, in honor of conference days, I spit out this chapter as quickly as I could for you guys. Don't be surprised if you find edits if you re-read, because I really don't know WHAT I am doing. Also, kudos to MissShakespeare72 for catching some historical errors!**

**Hope you like it!**

**With love, Rooz**

**P.S. Thanks again for all the reviews so far! You guys are stupendous!**

* * *

><p>Kurt gazed skillfully across the vast black and white area. Many men were lost today, but Kurt was determined to keep fighting. He studied each individual with extreme intent, knowing that, at this point, his next move could be his last. He could lose it all.<p>

The room was completely silent, the only sound being the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops on the window.

"Ahem," Blaine _obnoxiously _cleared his throat, making Kurt jump. He looked up to meet Blaine's eyes, which were a mix of amusement and challenge. Kurt glared at the boy, and took a deep breath.

_Focus, Kurt, focus. _

With one final nod, he made his move, taking Blaine's pawn with his knight.

They both raised their heads to exchange a challenging gaze. Blaine pondered the board for a moment before raising an eyebrow to Kurt. He then made his move, his bishop encapturing Kurt's queen.

A few gasps emitted from the onlookers, Rachel covering her mouth with her hand as Finn and Sam just gaped at the board, in awe of how close this was.

Kurt simply smirked, and the short silence that followed was full of tension and blackmail, because before Blaine could react-

"Checkmate." Kurt stated with a victorious smile. And with one swift movement, he moved his bishop across the board and tipped over Blaine's king, which rolled a few times before coming to a complete stop.

Rachel, Finn and Sam all let out victorious cheers as Kurt shook hands with an awed Blaine.

"Oh _blimey_!" Finn exclaimed. "That was splendid!"

Blaine laughed in defeat. "I should have known. You're quite good at Chess, Kurt. Honestly, I would have lost no matter what I would have played."

"Hooray, Kurt!" Rachel grinned, running over to give him a hug.

At that moment, Mrs. Anderson walked through the doorway, wearing an amused smile. "Well, what's all this then?"

"Kurt beat Blaine at the most stupendous game of chess!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Yeah, it was ace," Sam grinned.

Mrs. Anderson grinned back, glad to finally hear something come out of that boy's mouth other than 'thank you,' or 'please,' or 'sorry' in the past few weeks they'd been in the country. "Well, why don't we celebrate with a lovely apple pie Agnes has just baked?"

Finn leaped to his feet, eyes eager as ever for pastries. Rachel and Sam followed quickly after, darting towards the door. Mrs. Anderson looked questioningly at her son, who was still seated by Kurt on the floor. Blaine noticed her and looked up.

"I think Kurt and I are going to tidy up the battle, but we'll join you in a bit," Blaine smiled, beginning to gather up his army of chess pieces.

Mrs. Anderson looked as though she was about to say something concerning, but snapped her mouth shut and replaced it with a pleasant smile. "Alright then," she said, and turned to leave the room.

Blaine turned back to Kurt, studying him for a moment. He almost chuckled at the smug ghost of a smile Kurt was still wearing on his face. "Blimey, Kurt..." He said, making the other boy pause his tidying-up. "How'd you ever get so good at chess?"

Kurt smiled back at Blaine as he cleaned up the pieces. "My mother and I played it often."

"You're quite fond of her, aren't you?" Blaine asked. Kurt just nodded, his smile sincere and melancholy.

"I..." Kurt began. "I still miss her, y'know? I mean, obviously I really shouldn't worry that much and _perhaps_ I'm being childish, but..."

Unable to find the words, Kurt let his sentence drift off, shrugging slightly.

"I think...I think I understand." Blaine said. "I mean, I'm not too sure what my life would be without my mum."

Kurt almost jolted when he felt Blaine take his hand, rubbing it gently. His calloused fingertips caused a ticklish sensation on the back of Kurt's soft hand.

"Kurt, you..." Blaine took a breath, somehow unable to tear his hands away from the light complexion he was caressing. "You're so strong...I just don't understand how you do it...It's near...poetic, how your features are soft a delicate, though on the inside, you're stronger than I could ever be..." Blaine stayed like that for a moment, before looking up, startled. "Oh Lord...did I say that out loud?"

Kurt chuckled. "Yeah. You made a right fool out of yourself."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? That's all I am? A fool?"

Kurt smirked, getting up and pulling Blaine with him. "Not _just _a fool..." He shrugged, backing up into the wall and leaning against it. "Perhaps...dim-witted, as well?"

Blaine mock-scoffed at Kurt, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh?"

Kurt nodded playfully. "At least in studies. _And_ you're gullible."

The other boy took a challenging step towards Kurt. "How so?"

"Well, you thought I was rightly frustrated with you the evening I arrived here!"

At this, Blaine tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Were you not?"

Kurt shot Blaine an impish smile, making him back away just slightly. "Well, aren't I just the village idiot?"

"You could be that." Kurt shrugged. "...Or maybe I was lying about the gullible bit. I _was_ rather frustrated with you that evening."

Blaine gave another fake scoff, barely able to fake it past the large grin he was sporting. "Well _I'm_ rather frustrated with you right now!"

Kurt, grinning profusely, took a step toward Blaine. "Are you now? You don't look like it."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Kurt Hummel, stop before you make a fool out of yourself."

Kurt looked thoughtful. "Maybe we're both fools."

The other boy chuckled. "Oh, whatever will they do with us? Two fools alone in the world?"

"We don't have to be alone," Kurt shrugged. "We could be fools together."

Blaine's grin melted off his face and turned into something more sincere. "Well, isn't that a foolish thought?"

Kurt mirrored his expression. "Is it?"

And then, in the silence that followed, Blaine deperately felt the need to hold Kurt's hand again.

So he did.

Again, Kurt almost gasped at the touch. Though it was light as a feather, that touch was all Kurt needed to have butterflies fluttering in his heart.

Blaine took the smallest of steps closer to Kurt, cocking a playful eyebrow. "Fool."

"_Boys!_" Mrs. Anderson called from the next room. "_Come hurry, while the pie's still warm_!"

Blaine blinked once, taking a step back from Kurt. "Uh...we'd better go join the others."

Kurt nodded. "Y-yeah, we should."

Blaine shot Kurt another smile before returning to the remaining chess pieces and placing them in the box. Just as he'd closed it shut, he felt a warm hand graze his shoulders. Blaine let his eyes fall closed at the touch, and shuddered as soft lips began to brush by his ear.

"_Just for the record_," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear, "_I thought it was rather thoughtful, what you just said before. Blaine, I-" _

-But Kurt couldn't find the right words to say. He knew he had to say something, but didn't have a clue what it was. So he stopped right where he was and stood upright, clearing his throat. "Y'coming?"

"I-I'll be right out," Blaine muttered, and listened to Kurt's footsteps get quieter and quieter.

Blaine quickly placed the chessboard and pieces in their spot on the shelf and walked out into the hall. He came to a stop when he got to the dining room and spied around the corner.

Finn was on what was probably his third slice of pie, smiling as he shoveled forkful after forkful into his mouth. Rachel sat next to him, her pie barely touched. They seemed to carry on a conversation like this, Finn stuffing himself as Rachel blabbered on and on, twirling her hair around her finger. Sam sat with his cheek resting on his left hand, and staring out the window as the raindrops continued to splatter the glass.

And in-between Sam and Rachel sat Kurt.

And then Blaine couldn't breathe. He felt that warm fuzz in his chest, his feelings still uncomprehendable beyond belief. As he stared at Kurt from out behind that wall, Blaine tried as hard as he could to piece it all together...but nothing came. Just a black hollowness where Blaine knew _something_ was supposed to be.

But...what?

* * *

><p>Kurt looked across the classroom to Blaine. He really wasn't sitting <em>that<em> far away, relatively speaking, but Quinn and her friends sat between the two boys.

Kurt envied Quinn greatly. Blaine didn't even like her that much, but he probably would begin to...with time. She _was_ quite lovely...you don't see eyes as green as hers anywhere. Or lips quite as pink. Or...

In all Kurt's analyzing, he didn't realize he was in fact _staring_ at said girl. She did though, and shot him the most incredulous of looks. Kurt blinked before turning back to face the front of the class, where the Professor was prepping for the day's lesson.

"Today, we are going to read some..." The Professor paused to write on the board. "-Shakespeare!"

Nick and Jeff both sputtered out a laugh from where they sat on the floor of the old classroom.

"What?" Professor Schue asked, pretending to be surprised by their usual behavior. "Is Shakespeare not good enough for you?"

"Frankly, no." Jeff said.

"Too true. The bloke's old, Professor!" Nick agreed.

"Sonnets and plays aren't as hip as they used to be."

"It's all about the radio now."

"-And the television!" Jeff chimed.

"-Now, now boys, we're learning about Shakespeare." Professor Schue insisted, resulting in heavy groans from both of the troublemakers. "Oh, come off it now! William Shakespeare is a part of our history! His plays and poems express such emotion, many have been brought to tears by just reading the literature!"

"Well?" Jeff aked innocently.

"Go on then, Professor. What're you waiting for?" Nick asked, as innocent as his blonde friend next to him.

The others in the room giggled as the Professor looked quite defeated. "Alright, alright, settle down." After a few shushes, the giggles stopped. Professor Schue smiled. "Good. Now, the first thing I want to read to you is one of Shakespeare's many sonnets. Can anyone tell us what a sonnet is?"

Nick and Jeff both raised their hands wildly, as did both Quinn and Rachel. Professor Schue chuckled.

"Thanks boys, but I think I'm going to give this one to Quinn."

Quinn smiled. "A sonnet is a poem with fourteen lines."

"Very good," the Professor smiled. "William Shakespeare wrote all of 154 sonnets in his lifetime. Shakespeare never named his sonnets, so they are either titled by number, or by the first line of the sonnet. Today I am going to read you sonnet number 55."

"Is it a love poem?" Quinn shot out, excited gleam in her eyes.

"Yes, in fact, it is," the Professor nodded.

Quinn grinned brightly. "I_ love_ love poems," she whispered to Blaine, ending with a giggle.

"Yeah, o'course," Blaine nodded. He almost jumped as Quinn lay her head on his shoulder, getting much too close than he thought comfortable. He looked across her at Kurt, and shot him a wave. The other boy waved at him before turning back to the face the Professor.

"Now remember, Shakespeare is trying to bring emotion with his words. He's trying to make you _feel_. That's really what poetry is all about. So don't be surprised if you find yourself feeling something...new."

The Professor took a slow breath before beginning the sonnet, saying the words carefully and surely.

_**Not marble, nor the gilded monuments **_

_**Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme; **_

_**But you shall shine more bright in these contents...**_

Almost instinctively, Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt. These words felt like Kurt for some strange reason...

_**...Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. **_

_**When wasteful war shall statues overturn, **_

_**And broils root out the work of masonry, **_

_**Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn**_

_**The living record of your memory. **_

_**'Gainst death and all oblivious enmity **_

_**Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room, **_

_**Even in the eyes of all posterity **_

_**That wear this world out to the ending doom. **_

_**So, till the judgment that yourself arise, **_

_**You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.**_

_Dwell in lovers' eyes._

Blaine could hardly breathe. It wasn't the sparkling green of Quinn's eyes he dreamed of dwelling in. The eyes he saw were of a bluish-gray, like the ocean.

They were Kurt's.

The students applauded as Professor Schue ended the poem, and Blaine snapped out of his trance.

"Any thoughts?" The Professor asked.

Nick and Jeff shared a look before Jeff spoke up.

"It was alright." Jeff smirked.

"Yeah," Nick nodded, "I suppose ol' Will can still be pretty good."

Professor Schue grinned pridefully. "I'm glad. Now, does anyone have any other reflections on this piece? Anyone want to

Rachel shot her hand up before Quinn could get the chance. "Yes, Rachel?"

"Well, Professor, I find it very appropriate to choose this sonnet. One can see that Shakespeare was trying to..."

Rachel went on to analyze the sonnet, but Blaine paid no attention. For this poem filled in that emptiness Blaine couldn't figure out before.

What he felt for Kurt...could it be...

_Love?_

* * *

><p>"...And surprisingly," The Professor continued on with his lesson, "our friend William never attended a university. But that never prevented him from writing some of the most iconic peices of literature known to man. For instance...can anyone tell me what play this is from?"<p>

Professor Schue grabbed a fantastic velvet hat from behind his desk and threw it on his head, before retrieving a ripe apple from atop his desk and holding it in front of him.

"To be, or not to be, that is the question! Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer the Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, or to-"

"Hamlet!" Rachel blurted out, resulting in a spiteful gaze from Quinn.

"Yes! Well done, Rachel!" The Professor praised the girl. "Hamlet spoke this soliloquy right after-"

"-Isn't that supposed to be a skull?" Nick asked, pointing to the fruit.

The Professor looked at the object in his hand. "Uh...yes..."

"It's an apple." Jeff stated.

"Well, yes. Obtaining skulls isn't as easy as you might think," Professor Schue defended himself.

"And what's with the hat?" Nick continued.

"Uh...well..."

"Did Hamlet have a hat, then?"

"Not necessarily..." The Professor said. "It's just...period."

"Yeah, right," Nick snorted. "So was skimping on personal hygiene and being hung by the neck."

The Professor looked dumbfounded. "Uh..."

"Don't we get out at two?" Mercedes piped up, pointing at the grandfather clock that sat in the corner. It pointed at ten after two.

"O-oh yes!" Professor Schue nodded, thankful to not have to continue this conversation further. "Yes, have a good day, everyone! And be careful, it looks like a storm's on its way!"

As everyone began to pack up their belongings, Kurt walked over to Blaine while he could, as Quinn was distraced by Santana and Brittany.

"Back to the house, then?" Kurt asked Blaine, making the slightly shorter boy shoot his head up so fast, he lost balance momentarily and collided with the bookshelf next to him.

"Blaine! Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine, Kurt," Blaine insisted, rubbing his head with his hand. "Uh, what did you ask?"

"I was wondering if we were going straight back to the house or not," Kurt repeated.

Blaine stammered. "Uh...I mean, if you want, but...I, uh, need to ask the Professor something."

Kurt looked near hurt and it broke Blaine's heart a little. "I promise, I'll be back for dinner."

"Y-yeah, of course," Kurt nodded. "I'm pretty knackered anyway, I think I'll have a kip. See you later, Blaine." And with that, Kurt turned and made his way out the door.

Blaine stared longingly at Kurt's retreating figure...until his vision was blocked by-

"Blaine! Wasn't that lesson so sweet?" Quinn asked. "Didn't that love poem make you-"

"Quinn!" Blaine interjected, resulting in an almost sad look in Quinn's eyes. "I really can't talk right now, I'm sorry. Could you please leave?"

Quinn looked as if she was about to say something, but snapped her mouth shut before turning on her heel, stomping out the door.

Blaine sighed, relieved to have the anchor of Quinn's being lifted from him. He stood straight, and went over to where the Professor was standing over his desk, looking over his book of Shakespeare.

Blaine nervously cleared his throat. "Professor?"

Professor Schue barely looked up. "Hello Blaine," he said, before going back to reading his book.

"...What're you doing?" Blaine asked.

Professor Schue shook his head. "You know, Nick and Jeff are much brighter than they appear. Academically speaking, that is. They are also more clever than one would think... I don't know how, but they always target me! I can never win!"

Blaine chuckled slightly. "Professor, they're only teasing. They have much more respect for you than you think. Really, don't beat yourself up too much about it."

The Professor looked up, smiling at Blaine. "I can always count on you, you know that?" Blaine smiled back at the Professor, who closed the book before sitting back in his chair, much more relaxed than before. "Now, what seems to be the trouble, m'boy?"

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "Trouble? W-why would you think there's trouble?"

The Professor just chuckled, pulling up a chair next to his and gesturing for Blaine to sit down. "I've known you for nearly eight years now. Don't you think I can tell when one of my oldest students is feeling down?"

Blaine smiled at how well the Professor really understood him. But that still didn't calm his mind for what he really had to ask Professor Schue.

"...So," the Professor tried again. "What's the issue?"

"Um..." Blaine began, wringing his hands together. "D-do...um...w-well..."

Blaine sighed, and sat himself straight in the chair. "...P-professor, how do you know when you're in love?"

The Professor's eyes grew as wide as saucers, immediately taken back by the question. "I'm sorry?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, not really wanting to repeat himself. "How do you know if you love someone or not?"

Professor Schue leaned forward. "Blaine, is it...is it Quinn?"

"N-no!" Blaine groaned. "No, I do not love Quinn, and I never will!"

"-Easy, easy," Professor Schue urged Blaine to calm down. "I only ask because...well, it's pretty obvious how much she fancies you."

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"-And I think it's pretty obvious that you don't like her either," The Professor insisted. "I'm just making sure you're not being fooled into thinking you fancy someone you don't."

Blaine gave the Professor one of those "yes, yes, get on with it," looks, and the Professor sighed.

"Well, it's not something you can decide, of course. It's really not something...defined, either. I mean, I suppose you just...know."

The Professor could tell this wasn't working for Blaine, and decided to take a different approach.

"For example, when I first met Emma, it was like...discovering something new. I wanted to know more about her, everything about her pulled me in."

Will rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. "It's as if...they are like no one else. Being with them makes you feel complete, at peace. Thinking about them makes you happy, yet sad that they are not there with you. You'll want to cry and laugh and _scream_ all at the same time because your feelings almost _hurt_, but...at the same time, you never want to let them go. If you really love someone...you won't be able to doubt it. For doubting it would mean not being with them. And if you _truly love them_, not being with them would hurt _so much_, you couldn't bear to even think of it. The bottom line is...if you love someone, don't waste your time."

The Professor sat back in his chair, taking a deep sigh. "Did that help at all?"

Blaine only stared at the Professor, wide-eyed. "Y-yeah...yeah, it did...really..." Blaine sat up quickly, and shook the Professor's hand. "Thank you, Professor Schue, but I really must get going," he blurted before bolting towards the door.

"Blaine!" Professor Schue called.

Blaine stopped before flying out the door. "Yes, Professor?"

"Remember, Blaine: if love is true, then it can never be wrong. No matter _what_."

Blaine grinned and noded a 'thank you' before speeding out the door, down the stairs, and into the pouring rain. He couldn't waste another second. Blaine had to find Kurt, and tell him...that he loved him.

* * *

><p>Kurt paced back and forth in his room, thinking of nothing.<p>

That is, nothing but Blaine.

Kurt grabbed his hair in fists. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but accept the fact that he loved Blaine. The fact that Blaine wasn't with him right now just made it that much worse. Becuase he _wanted_ and _missed_ Blaine even _more. _

Kurt sat down on his bed next to his suitcase. Having nothing to do, he began to rummage through his belongings, pausing when he reached a small box. He opened it to find old figurines he used to play with when he was a boy.

Kurt smiled to himself. The toys reminded him of his mother, and how they used to play together when he was so much younger.

_"Mum! Mum, let's play toys, please?" _

_Rose giggled at her son. "Alright Darling. We can play." _

_Little Kurt grinned, making his way over to the couch. "Mummy, let's play with the dollhouse! Here, I'll make a family!" _

_Rose watched curiously as her son arranged the figures in a family-like seating arrangement. "They look great, Kurt! But doesn't the little boy there need a mommy?" She asked, placing a female doll next to the man sitting next to the little boy. _

_Kurt looked at the pairing thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "No, they don't look as good together as these two do." He replied, critically moving away the lady and replacing her with another man. _

_"So..." Rose continued, a spark of entertainment in her eyes. "The boy has two daddies?" _

_"Yeah!" Kurt nodded. "...That can work, right?" _

_"Hmmm..." Rose thought for a moment. "Why? Do _you _want two daddies?" _

_Kurt gasped. "No! I mean, yeah, daddy's brill, but...I love you, mummy!"_

_Rose grinned, scooping her son up in her arms. "I love you too, my little darling." _

_"But...it can happen, right? If the boys have two daddies?" _

_"Well, does he love the daddies like you love me and daddy?" Rose asked. _

_"Yes, very much!" Kurt nodded furiously. _

_"And do the daddies love each other just as much as your daddy and I love each other?" _

_Kurt nodded again. _

_"Well," Rose replied. "I think if they really do all love each other, then yes, it can work out." _

_Kurt grinned, wrapping his small arms around his mother again._

A crash of thunder made Kurt jump, and he clutched the little men and women to his chest. He sighed, catching his breath from how startled he was, before lying down flat on the bed. He really did miss home, still. Even little things like childhood toys brough such emotion. Letting a single tear slide down his cheek, Kurt lay there on his bed, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked through the house, turning his head to no one, meeting eyes with only the space in front of him. He couldn't let anything distract him from what he was going to do next. The next actions he made, the next words he said, could either make or break him. But Blaine was through with being pushed around- pushed into thinking he should love Quinn, pushed into solitude from believing he was wrong about anything- he was prepared to take the risk.<p>

Because whatever followed in the next moment would define who he really was. One thing he'd never been sure about before in his life.

Blaine made his way up the stairs to Kurt's room, the door halfway closed. Curious, he pushed the door open to see Kurt, like an angel, napping on the bed.

He stepped into the room, closing the door shut behind him. Blaine walked over to the side of the bed, and sat down as softly as he could, as not to stir the light-haired boy beside him. Kurt was so peaceful when he slept. Of course, everyone is, Blaine was sure. But all the anxiety that Kurt had constantly welling in his eyes, the reason his skin went cold and his eyes went empty...vanished. Kurt was lost in his dreamland.

The thunder crashed loudly outside. Just then, Blaine became nervous. What if his feelings, let alone the motivation to express those feelings, was also just a dream? Something that didn't really remove his problem, but covered it up and made it seem peaceful? What if the thought that he and Kurt could really love like lovers do...what if it was all just a silly dream, and Blaine would soon awaken back into the real world?

"...Blaine?"

Blaine almost jumped, startled by Kurt's gentle voice. He looked over to see that Kurt was awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What're you doing?"

Blaine, realizing his mouth was hanging open, immediately snapped it shut and tried to think of some clever excuse for being in Kurt's room. 'I was just looking for you,' or 'dinner's almost ready, I was just about to wake you up,' would have sufficed.

But he found himself lost in trying, and instead felt himself begin to sob. He instantly broke down in tears, holding his face in his hands. He didn't care anymore. What else could he do?

Kurt gasped at the sight of his friend breaking down into tears. "Blaine, Blaine what's wrong?" He asked worriedly, letting the toys fall out of his hands and proceeding to sit up so he could hug Blaine properly.

"Blaine...Blaine, please, speak to me!" Kurt urged. What could be causing Blaine to just start sobbing on Kurt's bed? But Blaine just Kept sobbing into Kurt's shirt, his hot tears drenching and staining the fabric instantly.

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered, his voice breaking. Blaine already made Kurt want to cry all the time. How perfect Blaine was in Kurt's eyes, how much Kurt was sure he loved the boy. Seeing him sad only made it even worse for Kurt to stay all in one piece.

"_Blaine_..." Kurt repeated even softer than before, a single tear trickling down his cheek. "...Look at me, Blaine."

The dark-haired boy took two deep steadying breaths before obeying. He lifted his head to look at Kurt, who still had his arms wrapped around Blaine.

...And then Blaine felt...warm. The feeling of Kurt's arms was light and soothing, and his face...which had the most sincere expression on it, made Blaine melt. The boys just stared at each other, a connection forming.

And then, like so many times before, Blaine studied the boy in front of him. He began at Kurt's eyes...those two beautiful oceans that were presently wet with tears, making them sparkle and shine.

He moved his eyes down to Kurt's cheek, which held a single tear trickling down the pale skin. Blaine instinctively reached his hand up to wipe it away, Kurt sighing and closing his eyes at the touch.

Blaine then found his eyes fallen upon Kurt's lips. And, oh, they were of the most gorgeous, subtle of pinks, gaping open just slightly and-

"I..." Kurt began to speak, almost musically it sounded in the silence.

And then, before he could process anything else, Blaine leaned forward, pressing his lips against Kurt's. Kurt first froze up, but then opened his mouth more, inviting the kiss. He leaned back onto the bed, pulling Blaine with him.

Nothing could feel better than this did for Blaine. Nothing could ever feel more...

Right.

Kurt reached his right hand up to hold the back of Blaine's neck, wanting more and more of him. Blaine responded in combing his hands into Kurt's soft hair as his tongue explored Kurt's mouth further, making the boy beneath him moan. Both boys were totally wrapped up in each other, bodies excited and craving each other.

Needing air, Blaine pulled away, looking down at Kurt. Both boys breathed deeply, lost in each other's ambiance. Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek in his hand, eyes darting between the boy's hazel eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

After a moment, Blaine let himself go limp on top of Kurt, burying his face in Kurt's neck and pressing feather-light kisses there.

"I..." Blaine started, pausing his kisses. Kurt shuddered at the feeling of Blaine's hot breath on his neck. "Kurt, I...I love you. I want this so much, and...and I-"

But he couldn't finish, because Kurt interrupted him by turning his head to give Blaine a brief, yet deep kiss on the lips. Midway through, Blaine could feel Kurt's lips turn up into a smile.

"I love you too, Blaine," Kurt whispered. "At...at least, I think I do. I mean, I've never loved someone before, but...I don't know what else this could be."

Blaine smiled, and wrapped his arms around Kurt. The two lay there, tangled on the bed, for awhile, until Kurt spoke.

"...No one know, can they?" Kurt asked.

Blaine frowned to himself, reality practically punching him in the gut. "...No."

"...Because it's wrong? Two blokes to be together?" Kurt said, nervously laughing at the words.

Blaine cupped Kurt's cheek, turning him to meet Blaine in the eyes. "No," he said, and pressed a kiss to Kurt's nose. "It's not wrong."

Kurt tried to smile, but found himself unable to. His expression grew angry, and he sat up straight, tensing up immediately.

"Then...why does the world think it's wrong? W-why can't I have feelings like anyone else? Why should the world care if I love a bloke? Why can't I love you freely, without being deemed a right pansy-!"

Blaine shushed Kurt as well as he could, the other boy immediately going limp in Blaine's arms. Blaine stroked Kurt's hair soothingly. "I don't know why it's so wrong, but...I just know that it's right for me. And...maybe one day, the world will see that too."

Kurt nodded, and buried his face into Blaine's chest, the boy holding him as if to never let go.

Because really...what else could they do?

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews = good<strong>


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